Reunion Day
by Dapper Dumpling
Summary: The war is over and Germany and Italy haven't spoken for 10 years. When Germany finally decides to talk to Italy, what will he find when he visits? Warning: There is a mention of sex, no smut and nothing near that but it is mentioned as well as violence and minor abuse. This one gets a little dark.
1. Chapter 1

**(An):**

 **Hello! This is another fic that I wrote a little while ago, so it isn't perfect. I'm no history expert, so not everything will be 100% accurate, I apologize for that in advance, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Happy reading!**

Chapter 1

Germany slicked back his blond hair nervously as he approached Italy's house, a heavy feeling in his heart as he looked upon the familiar door with something akin to dread. It had taken him the better of ten years to get the guts to finally face his former best friend again. Staring down the familiar house sent another stab of nerves.

Ludwig had beaten himself up for years after World War II. For the way he treated his best friend and secret love. This house brought memories rushing back to his side. When he had been _really_ happy for the first, and what was probably the last time in his life. And for what? A crazy man, and an unwinnable war.

Germany felt like the biggest hypocrite in the world, being gay and prosecuting gays in those horrible death camps. The nation shuttered and forced the memories out of his head, he found once they started it was hard to stop them. He hadn't wanted to greet his former best friend like that, Feliciano deserved better.

After the war had finally ended and he'd gotten his economy back in control, all Ludwig could do for the other nations (Personally anyway) was apologize for everything he'd done. His country had been left in rubble and for years the German had to pay for what he did. He had personally apologized to every country he had wronged, with the exception of Italy. He had been far too ashamed to face him. Germany had paid off so much war debt that he had been in near poverty for years.

Gilbert, after he had been released from Russia's house, (which had only been recently) had insisted he apologize to Italy in person as well. Germany had fought tooth and nail. How could he possibly look Feli in the eye after the atrocities he had committed? Some of which to Italy himself; he had blindly followed a madman and it had cost him nearly all he had. How could someone so sweet and kind ever look at him with anything but disgust?

Now that Prussia was home though, Germany couldn't deny his older brother anything after what he'd gone through at Russia's. He had done the whole, personal apologies things as soon as possible. Mostly to just get it done and over with so he could move onto more important things. There was just so much to do after the war. But he put off this particular apology for years, not wanting to face his betrayed best friend.

Prussia had lately been pressuring him to go over uninvited and surprise the Italian. It was preferable for Germany. He never liked surprise visits himself, but what if Italy wouldn't speak to him? It had happened before, Russia had flat out refused, and Austria had made up excuse after excuse until finally Germany just dropped it. France had been very cold towards him and accepted his apology with polite words. Despite this, he needed to do this, whether he liked it or not Germany was going through with it; but he was nervous. Ludwig expected Italy to be angry, resentful, scared, anything except forgiving.

Not that anyone had been forgiving. Each apology had been politely received, but Ludwig could tell that the acceptance, for the most part, had all been less than sincere. America and England had been particularly cold towards him. He knew why, and he didn't blame them. He just couldn't face those looks of hidden, burning hatred on Italy's sweet face.

It already pained him to watch Italy bear two World Wars. The fact that he personally got him through the first one was one thing. But forcing the brunette to resort to abandon him towards the end of World War II stung. How had the war affected him personally? Most everyone still bore physical effects of the war, was Italy still feeling hurt?

It didn't matter right now though, he had come to apologize, and he wasn't making this walk of shame again. He had gotten the guts to get this far. He wasn't backing down now; no matter how much it hurt.

So, the German nation straightened his shoulders, cleared his throat and knocked on Italy's door; dread once again sinking into the pit of his stomach. He hoped he hadn't called too early. The moment didn't seem to end while Germany stood there waiting. He heard a faint shuffling from deep inside the house. He hoped he hadn't woken the Italian nation.

The door swung open, revealing a bleary eyed Italy in nothing but his boxers and a shirt that looked way too big on him. Germany blushed, Italy look absolutely adorable. His face was flustered, he was rubbing his right eye, and that shirt made him look a lot smaller than he already was. Ludwig felt his heart flutter in a way he hadn't felt in years. It had been too long since he had seen Italy and the brunette still set his heart pounding.

"G-Germany?" Italy gasped, his hand dropping to his side as his huge brown eyes swelled with shock. He pulled the door towards him so that he was blocking most of the entrance, his face even more flushed. "W-what are you doing here? Ve, is everything ok?"

Germany felt a pang as he watched Feliciano, he wasn't sure why exactly he was doing what he was doing, but it had something to do with him. Italy looked a little tired, like he had just woken up. He looked a little thinner, but he knew that might just have been an illusion created by the shirt he was wearing. The blond wondered at that, but he chose not to comment.

Ludwig took a step forward and on impulse took the brunette's hands before the Italian had a chance to react. He wouldn't admit it, but he was terrified, terrified Italy would start yelling or hate him. Feliciano let out a surprised squeak, as Germany looked him dead in the eye, his grip tightening on the little country's hands. It seemed selfish, but he needed the support, it had been so long since he'd touched Italy.

"I'm so sorry for everything, I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for the citizens I hurt; the soldiers, the Jews. I'm sorry for how many of them died." He hesitated at the stunned look on Italy's face. Could he get through this? "I came here to make things right between us again."

Germany didn't quite know where the words were coming from. None of his other apologies had been nearly this heartfelt. That was probably because this one was the most personal, but he hadn't even had anything prepared in his head before this. It surprised him.

Ludwig leaned in closer to the Italian nation. Italy looked nervous as he took a step back saying quietly. "Germany, there's something I have to tell you before you say anything else-"

"No there's something I have to tell you first." He interrupted, the brunette's actions making him panic and his heart ache. Feliciano was looking on edge, his eyes were wide with what looked like pity, or maybe sorrow. But Ludwig was more determined than ever, he had to let Italy know how he felt now or it would forever remain unknown.

"Ludwig, please-" Italy begged, but Germany knew he wouldn't be able to get this out if he was given a chance to talk himself out of it.

"Please." He whispered, drawing Feliciano closer, causing his face to heat up and his pulse to quicken. The Italian closed his mouth and shifted backwards, his grip on his hands slackened, and Germany realized he was trying to let go. He needed an anchor, so he held on tighter, causing the brunette to flinch a little. But he gave in and gave Germany's hand a light squeeze. Germany felt his shoulders lighten as if a burden had been lifted and allowed his grip slackened slightly.

Germany looked Italy right in the eyes, he didn't know where this sudden surge of courage was coming from, but he didn't question it as he said. "Italy, I've liked you for sometime." The brunette's eyes widened and Germany swallowed, his nerves getting the better of him again. "I mean, as more than just a friend, I think that I-" but Germany broke off when he heard a noise coming from deep within the house. Were those footsteps...?

Italy seized up and Ludwig felt his grip slacken again. Feliciano backed up a few steps. Ludwig tried to peer around inside door as whoever was in there was drawn closer. "Feli?" A much larger figure appeared behind the little country and Germany's eyes widened as the figure came into view.

America was standing there, in nothing other than a pair of gray boxers and his usual spectacles. His blue eyes narrowed when they fell upon the pair. He walked forward, pushing the door open further. He strode over to Italy and wrapped an arm around the brunette's waist, causing The brunette to drop Germany's hands completely. Feliciano turned towards the blond and put one arm around his back, and rested the other on America's bare chest, looking up into Alfred's eyes with what looked like an abashed, slightly apologetic stare.

Germany backed off, completely shocked and enraged by the exchange. It made his blood boil, what the hell was going on here? Italy turned back towards him; his chocolate eyes were wide and sympathetic. "Germany," the German swallowed, scared for Italy to go on. "I wanted to tell you earlier but well…" Germany felt his heart throb painfully in his chest. "America and I are dating."

America waved awkwardly and gave the brunette a little squeeze, his gaze now softened on the Mediterranean country. Italy offered a weak smile and shifted in the American's grip.

"Uh, so what's going on here Feli?" Alfred asked, turning towards Germany, his cerulean eyes going icy cold. Ludwig glared back at the American, his fists shaking at his sides. How dare that pretentious idiot touch Italy like that? He took a step closer, his blood on fire.

"Germany was just here to apologize. You know, for the war and all." Italy said cheerfully, smiling brightly at Germany. "And you're forgiven. Thank you for being brave and coming over."

Ludwig tried not to let his feelings get the better of him even as his heart ached in his chest. Italy had a boyfriend, he would just have to learn to accept that. "Uh- yeah. Thank you Italy." He choked, looking anywhere but at the pair. Tears were burning his eyes; he turned away. "Well, I can see you're busy. I should really go."

"Wait! Germany?" The German froze, Italy's light footsteps were padding behind him. He looked up and grunted as he felt Italy wrap his arms around his chest. "Can I call you? I'd like to catch up."

Germany shifted his head so it rested atop the brunette's own head. He saw America standing on the porch alone. Upon eye contact the American crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at Germany. Ludwig couldn't help it; he smirked and put on hand on the Feliciano's waist and the other at the back of his head. He gripped Italy tighter and held him against his chest, causing America's scowl to deepen. "Of course."

"Yay!" Feli squealed. Germany smiled softly at the familiar exclamation of happiness. For a moment, it felt almost like old times, with Italy showering him with hugs and kisses while Japan smiled knowingly at them from afar. Italy would beg to slack off and play football while Germany tried to make a soldier out of him and fail. He remembered all of the silly situations Feliciano had wound up in, and all the times he had to come and save him. His smile widened and he inhaled Italy's scent.

But the happy memories scattered when Italy pulled back and bounded straight back into Alfred's arms, waving jovially back at Germany. His heart ached further as he watched America turn a now warm gaze onto Italy and kiss the side of his head.

He waved back half-heartedly as Italy turned and walked into the house. America stayed back a moment, sending the German another icy glare before following him into house. Germany realized with a sharp breath that the shirt Italy was wearing must have been the American's. Pain seemed to be radiating off Ludwig's heart, how could he have misread his best friend for so long? It had been years since he'd seen Italy, how long had they been dating? What kinds of things had they done in that time? It was only 8:00 the American had obviously spent the night!

Germany sighed and walked back to his car, his eyes brimming with tears as it all came crashing down on him. He honestly thought for a while Italy was interested in him. Now he realized how stupid he'd been. He opened the door to his car and climbed in, tears still blurring his vision. Germany inhaled a shaky breath and wiped at his eyes, not wanting to drive half blind in traffic.

He had been wrong.

The war had taken everything from him.

...

Italy sighed contently against America's chest, snuggling into the blonde's familiar warmth as the two sat on the couch. They had long since gotten dressed, had breakfast and were planning to put on a movie. But upon settling on the couch, neither could bring themselves to get up. So they had decided to just lie there and cuddle for a little while.

Feliciano giggled happily as Alfred pulled him closer and kissed him lightly on the forehead. He hummed and pressed his palm into his boyfriend's cheek as the blond planted a kiss atop his head. Italy looked up into America's beautiful blue eyes, their cerulean coloration faded into icy blue, and suddenly Feliciano was looking into Ludwig's eyes again. Italy felt a small pang of guilt, thinking of Germany's apology earlier that morning. He couldn't get the look of despair on his face out of his head. The Italian sighed and hid his face in the American's neck, seeking a little comfort in the blonde's touch.

"Feli?" Alfred questioned, looking down at the little country. He looked half amused, half confused. "What'cha doin?" He probed, giving the Italian nation a little shake, his smile causing the older boy's heart to melt.

"Hm? What do you mean?" Italy murmured softly, feigning confusion and looking up at the American with wide chocolate eyes.

Alfred chuckled, pecked Italy on the lips and nuzzled his forehead. "You're so cute!" He exclaimed, giving him a little squeeze. Feli giggled.

"So are you!" He cooed, poking Alfred's nose and making the American chuckle.

"What's wrong?" America repeated, not allowing the subject to be changed for long. "Is everything ok?" He asked, turning concerned blue orbs down on the older nation. Italy melted again under his gaze, and at the same time felt even worse.

"Well, it's- it's just," He sighed and pulled away slightly. America kept his arms around the Italian, but now there were a few inches between them. Italy looked intensely at America, indicating it was time for a serious talk. "It's about Germany."

Alfred didn't look awfully surprised, but concern and sadness clouded his cerulean eyes as he gazed down at the little country. "What did he do? Are you ok?" His grip on Italy suddenly becoming vice like around his small frame. "Did he upset you? Feli-?"

"No it's not that," Italy interrupted, knowing if he didn't stop him, the American nation would work himself up too much and get wild and unrealistic ideas up in his head. "I'm just worried. I should have talked to him earlier…"

The blond nation pulled him flush against his chest once more. Italy relaxed as Alfred's fingers laced through his auburn hair, his other hand snaking around the Italian's waist, holding him close. "I know it hurt not talking to him for so long. But then you and I wouldn't have gotten together, right? You don't... I mean..."

Italy's heart broke; America couldn't possibly think he was regretting their relationship could he? Feliciano shifted and planted a kiss on Alfred's jaw. "Yeah... you're right." He smiled warmly up at his boyfriend, blushing slightly. "I guess that means I made the right decision after all."

America's eyes lit up, his face breaking out into a huge grin. He leaned down and gave Italy a quick and passionate kiss before pulling the Italian fully into his lap. "Thanks Feli. But about this Germany thing..."

"I'm over him." Italy said at once, looping his arms around the American's neck. "I promise I have no romantic feelings for him anymore."

Alfred nodded. "I'm just worried. He's clearly not over you yet and you asked if you could call him."

Italy nodded, his eyes wide with understanding. "I know. I just feel so awful." He admitted, his head drooping a little. "I feel like I led him on… I still care about him. He was my best friend."

America lifted Italy's chin up and looked him dead in the eye. "I understand. I just want you to be careful. I don't really trust him."

Italy frowned. "Why not?" He questioned, pulling back from the blond nation again.

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "I told you, I don't trust him. He hurt you and waited years to even apologize to you for it! The worst of it is he's obviously got feelings for you. I trust _you_ ," he pointed a finger at Feliciano's chest, causing the little country to giggle despite the serious talk. Alfred gave Italy a small smile in return, moving that hand to cup Italy's soft cheek. "I know you don't want to hurt him. But I don't want him to hurt you again."

Italy's face set back into a pout-like frown, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared defiantly up at America. "He's still my friend. I don't want to string him along, but I don't just want to never talk to him again." Italy argued, annoyance slowly pricking at his skin.

America frowned down at him, but to his surprise Italy didn't back down. "That's not what I'm saying. I just…" Alfred looked frustrated as he gripped at his hair; it pulled Italy's sympathy. The little brunette took America's hand and immediately the blond nation gripped back, smiling slightly at the older nation for a moment before his face grew serious again. "I'm not trying to offend you, but Germany is a bigger and stronger country who has proven to be unpredictable. I don't want you around someone like that."

Promptly Italy's blood began to boil all over again. He was trying to keep this civil, but it was proving a losing battle. "He was following orders like anyone else would have done!"

Alfred shifted backwards, bewildered by Feliciano's earnest expression. "Yeah, but he sat back and watched atrocities unfold on his own people! He should have at least tried to do something. After all, he represents his people and government. Everything he does and is, is based off of their actions and feelings!"

Italy felt tears prick at his eyes, how could he say that? "But you're still friends with Japan, and he attacked you out of cold blood!"

"But I nuked him! And besides that he was the only thing keeping that war going! He was torturing his prisoners of war. People were dying I had to do something!"

"I'm not arguing about the moral behind it. War makes us all animals." He looked down. "Including me."

America looked taken aback. Italy felt a familiar guilt settle in his stomach, and found he couldn't hold the American's gaze. "W-what?"

Feliciano sighed, tears now swimming in his chocolate colored eyes. "You- you seem to have forgotten that I was a part of Axis too."

"Feli-" Alfred began, but Italy felt another sudden rush of anger.

"Nothing can excuse what I stood for!" He finally looked back up into Alfred's worried cerulean eyes. "I don't understand. Japan, Germany and I were _all_ a part of the Axis; we all stood for the same cause. But you and I are dating and you and Japan are friends now." He scooted a little closer to the American, leaning in closer. They were nearly nose-to-nose. "Why do you only blame Germany? How can you look at him with disgust and not me too?"

Alfred sighed. "I don't blame _you_ ," He poked Feliciano's nose, but this time Alfred's affection tugged no reaction from the brunette. "Because you were sticking with your ally's, you weren't going in to attack gays, or Jews, or anyone else." He took one of Italy's hands. "And once you started to rebel, Germany just-" His eyes turned cold. "Forced you to stay in a union you didn't want to support. You left for the good guys and helped us take Germany down."

Italy didn't feel any better. "I know! I sold out my best friend and then didn't talk to him for over ten years! I led him on and then he came back expecting me to be in love with him and I'm dating someone else." He hid his face in his hands. "I'm such a bad friend!"

"No!" America pulled Italy's hands away from his face and kissed him on the cheek. "You did what was right for you and your country. Like you said it's hard to blame a country for doing what their people and government want."

"Then why do you still blame Germany?" Italy accused.

America sighed again. "The war isn't the _only_ reason I distrust him." America's voice rose in pitch and volume, causing the Italian to shift backward. "He's obviously into you and I don't want him near you. Besides that he's a shady nation with a shady history, and he hates me!"

Italy let out a shaky breath, guilt once again creeping up on him. He hadn't meant to upset Alfred, he hated fighting with him and he didn't think this argument would go anywhere. So he decided to go with his usual tactic; surrender."I understand." He moved forward and kissed the blond nation on the jaw. "Would you feel better if maybe Japan was there with us? Then we wouldn't be alone together when we hung out. If I explained the situation, maybe he could help a little?"

Alfred gave him a faint smile as Italy looped his arms around him and kissed the tip of his nose. Feliciano knew that Alfred hated fighting about as much as he did. "That sounds reasonable." He conceded, his entire posture relaxing at the suggestion. "Thanks Feli."

Italy's face lit up in a happy smile. It was worth cutting the argument short and just complying if it made America this happy. "You're welcome Alfred!" He squeaked, trying not to let the fight affect his mood. Italy pulled away from the embrace, his smile only half-forced. "Oh! What would you like for lunch? Can we have pasta please?" He begged.

Alfred chuckled and pecked Feliciano lightly on the lips. "How about we have burgers for lunch, and we can share a huge bowl of pasta for dinner?"

"Yay!" Italy cheered, bouncing off the couch and into the kitchen. It had always been a delicate balance of what they should have to eat, as Italy only wanted to eat pizza and pasta while America couldn't stand a day without a few burgers and fries. But they made it work.

Italy began getting out the round pieces of meat and was just about to place them on a plate to grill them, when something grabbed him from behind and pulled him back. Italy let out a little yell, but his cries turned into giggles as he felt Alfred's familiar build press against him from behind.

"My burgers." He said playfully. "I want to show off my awesome grilling skills!"

Italy laughed hysterically before stepping aside, saluting with the wrong hand and calling playfully. "All yours captain!"

Alfred placed four burgers on the plate, picked it up with one hand, and took Italy's in the other. "C'mon. I want to eat outside! It's so pretty in your country."

Italy blushed. "Thank you! But I love the states."

"Yeah you do." He growled suggestively.

Italy smacked him playfully. "You know what I mean. California is absolutely beautiful."

Italy hadn't yet visited all of the states, but he wished he could. They generally alternated houses, America staying for maybe a week before he took Italy back with him to one of his houses in one of the many states. Feliciano had been to about seven-teen, while he had shown Alfred nearly all of Italy. After all, America was a much larger nation than his was.

"Thanks dude! That means a lot coming from such an adorable little artist." Alfred cooed. He turned and winked before turning back and firing up the grill. Italy smiled serenely and admired his boyfriend from afar.

He really had made the right choice after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Italy sighed happily as he skipped jovially towards a small restaurant. He had agreed to meet up with Japan and Germany for lunch and he couldn't be happier to have his two best friends together again.

He hummed softly to himself and pushed the door open searching frantically for his friends. Feliciano had arrived a few minutes late on purpose. He knew his friends and predicted both would be early, or at least Germany would be. As much as he wanted to be friends with him again he didn't think he could face him alone, nor did he think Alfred would appreciate it.

Finally his eyes locked onto two familiar figures sitting across from one another in a booth. The Italian nation smiled softly to himself noticing the two were already locked in what looked like an intense conversation. Could neither of them lighten up over some coffee?

Feliciano felt almost bad striding over and interrupting the conversation with a cheerful. "Kiku! Ludwig!" The two turned towards him with identical looks of shocked confusion. Italy felt his stomach drop, were they not happy to see him? "Um," his voice dulled. "Ciao, it's so wonderful to see you two again!"

Japan stood up and Italy stared him down, feeling a wave of uncertainty and guilt hit him like a heat wave. He had never known anything but kindness, if a stern hand from the Japanese man. But people changed, was Japan going to yell at him? Would he hit him? The Italian flinched, preparing for the worst.

Feliciano gasped as Kiku advanced and enveloped the brunette in a tight hug. The Italian stood frozen for a moment before his face broke out into a bright smile and returned the hug, surprised and delighted at Japan's uncharacteristic affection. Italy had on many occasions attempted to hug his smaller friend to be denied by Japan's awkwardness and general displeasure at being touched. The two nations were complete opposites when it came to public displays of affection. Japan was never comfortable showing any skin, or touching, or anything of that kind in public or otherwise. Italy, honestly just didn't care. He showed the world how he felt towards the people he loved. Why be ashamed?

So, the Italian nation was more than happy to return the hug enthusiastically pulling his friend closer, very relieved. "I missed you so much!" Italy giggled, squeezing Japan a little tighter before he released him, his smile refusing to leave his face. "I thought you were going to hit me! You both looked at me and I thought you hated me-"

"Feliciano, you and Ludwig are my closest friends. War does not change that." Italy felt tears begin to collect in his eyes. He didn't deserve such wonderful friends.

"I'm sorry about being so distant." Italy sighed, trying to ignore the burning behind his eyes as he smiled brightly at Japan. "I guess I was afraid that you would hit me, or hate me and that was so stupid. I'm so sorry Kiku!"

"It's alright Feliciano, I understand." Italy felt the urge to hug his friend once more, but resisted. The first one was most likely just a one-time event that the Italian nation would always forever keep clutched closely to his heart.

Italy's smile widened and his gaze fell on Germany. The blond nation was looking on with a serene smile and warmth in his eyes the Italian hadn't seen in years. It brought a familiar swooping sensation to his chest, he missed his friends so much... Feli was already running the events over in his head, trying to file the moment completely untarnished in his memory for eternity.

The Italian nation sat down next to Japan, who was now looking a little embarrassed. "M-my apologies Feliciano." That was more like the old Japan.

Italy waved the apology off politely and smiled happily at the two countries. "So, what were you two talking about?" He asked, sweetly.

Germany coughed awkwardly and his face broke out into a light red. Italy turned wide-eyed to Japan, but the older nation was looking away. Pain pricked his heart, he knew those looks. Neither of them was ever good at lying to him. His smile slipped off his face and his whole figure drooped, a familiar ashamed weight settled in his chest, it hurt. Already he could feel walls beginning to build between him and the other two. The same emotional buriers that had kept him away for so long, the same feeling that took Alfred so long to melt away. In short, it was the reason this meeting had been delayed for so long. A feeling only America knew how to break with the smallest touch and the fewest words.

It was obvious to him what they had been discussing. It couldn't have been more obvious to him if they had come out and said it. They were talking about him, or Romano, or America, or someone he loved they didn't like or approve of. He hoped it was about him, then they could just fix it and be done, but something told him that wasn't the case. Italy wanted to be brave and stand up for them, but he didn't want anyone upset. Making a big deal out of things only left people hurt. He would play oblivious even if it hurt.

"Never mind," He said quickly, his smile back full-force, trying to pass it off as something he wasn't very interested in. He quickly racked his brains for a topic, any topic that didn't involve war, or him and America. He had never had a harder time talking in his life. "How are you?" he asked Japan. "I feel like we haven't talked in forever!"

And so the painfully polite conversation began. Feli didn't want to talk about himself, he had spent a lot of his time either moping or with America. He doubted either wanted to hear about that. So he focused the conversation on them, trying to remain as cheerful as possible.

But both nations were acting as though they were at a business meeting, neither was talking freely. Everything they said seemed carefully rehearsed and none of it sounded completely legitimate. Italy wrestled with the urge to huff in frustration; they didn't have to be so polite!

"Are you alright Feliciano?" Germany asked, and his eyes went wide with confusion.

"Of course! Today is so happy!" He forced himself to smile once again, he didn't realize this would be so hard. Wishing very much that Alfred was here, the Italian tried to think of something less seldom. He thought of America's bright smile and the way his eyes glittered behind his glasses. Suddenly his expression was no longer quite so pained. He opened his now shining eyes to stare happily at Ludwig. "Can we talk about something happy?"

"Uh, ja sure." Germany stammered, and Italy knew it was time to take control of the conversation.

"I heard that Gilbert came home the other day! How is he?" Feli asked cheerfully, his face still turned in a bright smile.

"Much better now that he's home." Germany replied curtly.

The conversation began to be more uplifting as the minutes ticked on. Italy ordered some coffee and he chatted happily with his friends for a good half an hour before-

"So, how are things with you, Feliciano? I haven't been hearing a lot about what has been happening at your home. Is Lovino not at Antonio's house?" Italy knew at once what Japan was asking him about, and he dreaded answering him.

He swallowed, and Germany looked him directly in the eye. He looked expectant. Was this what they had been talking about before he got here? "Sì, big brother isn't home very often anymore." That had been partially his fault and he knew it. At first Romano was angry at him for being in the Axis so long, so he began spending more time away from him to sort out his feelings at Spain's house. Before he knew it his brother practically lived there, and now... well he was almost never 'home' anymore.

The real breaking point was when he started dating America. Or course he couldn't _really_ move out because they were in fact the same country and Spain didn't own or occupy him. Things had been a little frosty in that area considering Romano didn't really like America. Italy still tried to call him at least four times a week. He was still his brother after all.

Was that what Japan was getting at? He wasn't very good at trying to figure out what it was people wanted from him, so he just asked. "What do you mean? Things have been a lot better lately!"

Japan just shrugged. "I don't know, I just thought you might be feeling lonely."

What was Japan trying to pull out of him? He had that deep, all too innocent note in his voice. Japan knew about America and his relationship, did he think America was neglecting him? He didn't want to talk about it in front of Germany, who was still looking intensely at him with unwavering icy blue eyes and an unreadable expression.

He decided it would be worse if he lied or continued playing oblivious, so he just came out and said softly. "Well, I've been spending a lot of my time with Alfred lately. We've been living together for a little while now."

Germany looked away when Alfred's name was spoken and Italy had to fight the urge to glare at the blond, he didn't have to be rude. "Um, that's great Feliciano." Japan said awkwardly, and the Italian nation expected the questions to stop there, but the Japanese man went on. "How do you two get along?"

Italy cocked his head to the side, still confused. He didn't understand why Japan was asking about them. Italy couldn't stop the smile that broke across his face. "He's really sweet. We get along very well grazie." He didn't want to go on, Germany's jaw was tensing and his face was turning even redder. But he wanted to be clear that America was a good boyfriend. He wasn't sure if that was still what Japan was getting at, but he would comply with his questions.

Japan nodded and asked one final thing. "Please excuse the questions, I don't mean to be rude. How long have you two been dating? " Feliciano blinked his huge eyes up at his Japanese friend. He was usually the one who read the atmosphere and refrained from speaking. But right now Germany looked extremely uncomfortable and even Italy had a good idea of how awkward things had just gotten.

"It was…" He raked his brain; he was never good with dates. "About two years ago, I think."

"Really?" Kiku looked genuinely shocked. "I thought it was longer."

"Well," Italy mentally preparing himself, knowing how this would sound. "We did spend a lot of time together... we talked about it a lot but we, um, waited eight years to actually start dating." That pricked Ludwig's interest once more. The Italian looked towards him as Germany's head snapped at attention, and he leaned forward. The Italian nation swallowed nervously and took an awkward sip from his coffee.

Japan nodded and said softly. "I see. I-" There was a soft beep and Japan took out an adorable, tiny, gray phone with anime stickers littering the exterior. Italy smiled, the device was too cute! Kiku blushed. "Excuse me a moment, I have to take this." And he left the pair alone.

Italy smiled and decided to just ignore the German's obvious stare. "This is a lot of fun. We should do this more often, the three of us."

Germany nodded. "Ja sure. Um, so you waited eight years? Why?"

Italy's stomach squeezed uncomfortably, but before he could answer Japan returned with even more unsettling news. "My sincerely apologies Ludwig, Feliciano. That was my boss; there is an urgent matter I must attend to immediately. I do hope we can do this again sometime."

Germany nodded and Italy smiled. "It's alright, addio Kiku!" The Japanese man paid for his coffee and the two were left alone.

Italy felt his palms begin to sweat as he turned his face towards Germany again, preparing to change the subject, but Ludwig beat him to it. "I don't understand."

Italy sighed and took as long as he dared to sip at his coffee before he stared blankly at the German sitting opposite him. "It's not that important." He assured, trying not to sound nervous.

"What changed?" The blond nation asked, taking a sip of his coffee. "I'm curious."

"You're interested in Alfred and me?" He asked, hoping to put his friend off.

"Well, he _is_ dating my best friend."

Italy bit the side of his cheek and decided to just tell him. He couldn't dance forever. "Ve, well um. He-he asked me right after the war ended. We were both hurt and recovering and I wasn't really…" He stopped himself from saying 'wasn't really over you yet'. That would be beyond awkward. "Looking for a relationship, I suppose. It wasn't the right time."

Germany wasn't buying it and Feliciano knew it. The blond nation leaned forward with glittering ice-blue eyes and said in a deep voice. "That wouldn't have stopped you."

"I- what?" Italy was bewildered, he hadn't expected that.

"I know you. No political issue or anything else would have stopped you if you really wanted him." Italy felt an uncomfortable prickling sensation at the back of his spine as a horrified look dawned on the German's face. "Why would you do that, Feli?"

He didn't know how to respond, he was panicking so he settled on the truth, like he always did whenever he even tried to keep information confidential. "Because I uh… Ludwig, you have to know something before I go on um…" Italy looked up at him, fighting back tears and swallowing the lump in his throat at the look on the Germanic nation. He couldn't believe he was about to say this. "I-I did like you a-as more than just a friend. I mean before the war! Not anymore, you have to understand-"

Italy gasped as Germany, in one swift movement leaned forward, grabbed him by the wrists and wrenched him forward, cutting off his air as he forced their lips together. Ludwig's hand slid in the back of Feliciano's head, while his other held onto his wrist with a vice like intensity. Italy's eyes widened and he immediately pulled back but the blond nation held fast.

Feliciano didn't know what to do. Germany wasn't letting him go even though he wasn't responding. Alarms were blaring in his head, he had to do something! He foolishly tried to voice his displeasure, but Germany deepened the kiss. Feli panicked and…

 _Snap._

Italy gasped and his newly freed hand flew to his mouth as Germany reeled back holding his now red cheek and bowing his head. Italy panted for a few more seconds, completely terrified. He had just slapped Germany! "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"No, I'm sorry." He lifted his head his eyes closed as cleared his throat awkwardly. "I was out of line."

"I'm just trying to be clear." Italy sighed, wiping his mouth gently on his sleeve. He still felt petrified, his legs were shaking beneath him. He wanted to run, but he knew that wasn't an option. "It hurts to have to do that, you know."

"You're hurt?" Feli looked up, shocked by the despair in his friend's voice. "I'm barely out of a war, my brother has only just gotten away from that nutcase Ivan, and the one person I never thought I would lose doesn't even want to be alone with me."

"Can you blame me? I'm dating someone and you just kissed me without my permission." Feli looked down and leaned back. "But I understand." He didn't. He didn't understand why he didn't want to lose Ludwig so desperately. Why they couldn't just be friends or why his skin was still tingling where the blond had touched him. But it was his fallback, what he did when he couldn't take fighting anymore.

What a coward.

His heart was hammering in his chest but all he could think about was America. He would never let him see Germany again when he found out, and it made his heart ache. But that was nothing compared to the crushing guilt he felt thinking about how trusting his boyfriend was, he had to end this.

"I have to go." He whispered, pulling out some money to pay for his now cold coffee. "I'm so sorry for all of this. It was a mistake and-" He got up and placed the money on the table.

"Feli wait." He stopped dead and turned to face the Germanic nation, why was he still here? He should leave, he should go and tell his boyfriend and never see Germany ever again. Ludwig took a few steps closer and cupped Italy's cheek in his hand. "I know why you waited. You were waiting for me and I'm here now."

"I- not exactly." He denied, closing his eyes and tilting his head down. "I was hurting for you and I just didn't want to date someone when I had another person on my mind."

"I know my best friend."

Italy felt tears gathering in his eyes. "Don't do this to me." He begged softly.

"I want you to be happy. I could make you happier than he ever could." Italy didn't want to hear it; he couldn't allow himself to fall back into that pit again. It was too painful.

But he was helpless to Germany's icy eyes piercing passionately into his own. He was completely breathless, speechless. Everything was dead still as they stood there for what felt like forever.

Then Germany took a few steps forward leaning in, and for a moment Italy thought he was going to kiss him again but instead the blonde moved past his cheek, his lips inches from the brunette's ear as he whispered. "If there is anything left here, anything at all, meet me at my place tonight. If not, I swear I will drop it forever."

He felt himself nodding, why was he nodding? He shouldn't even be considering this! Italy closed his eyes and shook his head, pulling back from the blond, reality hitting him like a train. "No! Don't expect me Germany," He pleaded, not looking back at the German. "I have to go." Feliciano scurried out of the restaurant, wiping sparkling tears from his chocolate eyes.

...

Italy felt the worst mixture of guilt and dread as he stared down his own door. What on earth was he suppose to say to Alfred? He had let himself alone with Germany, the one thing his boyfriend hadn't wanted him to do. America had been faithful and given up a lot for him, and this was how he spent his time? He felt sick.

Feliciano knew what the right thing to do was. He had to tell America what had happened before anything else.

Italy took a deep breath and turned his key in the knob, opening the door with a loud. "Alfred? I'm home!"

"Feli?" Italy turned and felt the American nation's warm lips against his. He sighed contently and looped his arms automatically around the younger nation's neck. All doubt was draining rapidly from his mind. There was no way he was giving Alfred up. What had he been thinking? "How was it? Did you have fun?"

The American was smiling warmly down at him with his beautiful cerulean eyes. Italy frowned guiltily, looking up at his boyfriend with pleading eyes. "Um, sì. Alfred something happened…"

"Hm? Was it Germany again?" He asked, looking down sympathetically at the older nation. His heart gave a painful squeeze. He didn't deserve that look.

"Sì, um, Al?" He asked, backing away from the blonde with huge watery eyes. "Germany kissed me."

Alfred's blue eyes widened dangerously with both shock and anger. Italy gasped with surprise as the blonde's arms tightened around him. There was a long, scary silence as the information settled. Suddenly the American's face completely contorted with rage and Italy wilted under his gaze. "That bastard." He spat murderously. Italy felt a shiver run up his spin at the look on America's face; It scared him. He had never seen the easy-going blonde so livid before. Feli would never forgive himself if one of them got hurt because of something stupid he did.

"Wait Alfred, please don't do anything irrational-!"

"What? You're kidding me!" He shouted, his blue eyes blazing with a fire Italy had never seen before. "He kissed my boyfriend after I gave him a chance to-" He gasped, his blue eyes going impossibly wide as he gazed down at the Italian. "Oh my gosh, you didn't-"

He pushed Italy away from him, causing the older nation to suck in a breath of air as he fell against the wall. "You're here to break up with me!"

Italy's eyes swelled with shock and he strode forward. "No of course not, I-"

"Why were you alone? I thought Japan was supposed to be there! What the hell Italy!" He screamed, tears began to drip down Feli's tan cheeks.

"J-Japan left for an urgent message from his boss." He stuttered, his voice wavering with tears. "He had to leave. Then Germany asked about us and-" he buried his face in his hands, to hide his eyes from Alfred's condemning stare. "I tried to stop it as soon as I could, I slapped him and then-"

"You _tried?_ He _forced_ you to kiss him? I'll kill him!" Alfred screamed. Feliciano jumped up and grabbed the American's arm.

"Please don't hurt anyone!"

"Why are you defending him?"

"I don't want anyone hurt!" He screamed. "You or him!"

He grunted softly as the blonde nation threw him off for a second time. "I can't believe you would do this to me. You're still in love with him, that's it isn't it?"

The Mediterranean country felt fat, hot, tears roll past his soft cheeks in streaming rivers as he stared at America's red face twisted with rage. How had they gotten here? "I told you there's nothing there anymore." But was that true? This afternoon had been so confusing he didn't know anything anymore.

The American scoffed, marched out of the room and grabbed his brown jacket along with his keys. There was a long, uneasy pause when he reentered the room. "I need to think for a bit." He snarled the door slammed shut, leaving Italy in painful silence.

He didn't know how long he stood there. It felt like hours while the tears stung his cheeks and his body shook with sobs. Finally he emitted a shaky breath and forced his stiff limbs to move. He had a huge decision to make.

Where was Alfred going? Was he coming back? What was he suppose to do now?

He sighed again and came to the conclusion that Alfred would have to come back eventually. He had to get his stuff, right?

And the Italian nation realized with a jab to the heart that America in fact, might not be returning. Would he really come back for a pile of clothes and a suitcase? He didn't understand, he just didn't understand!

Why did everyone leave him?

Now he had proven to be just like everyone else. Leaving him all alone in a haunted house. A house haunted by the ghost of Romano, of Germany, of himself and now Alfred's angry form filled the empty space, it broke the dead silence and it shattered Italy's heart.

He had to leave; his chest was being ripped apart, it was too difficult to breath. Tears were raining onto the wooden floor as he breathed heavily, nearly panting as though he had run a marathon. All the oxygen seemed to have been sucked out of the room. If he stayed another second he would surely go mad.

He flew from the house, flung himself away from the ghosts and the memories and out into the evening. Light was slowly slipping away. Italy's heart seemed to pound harder and harder every inch he put between him and the safety of his house. _Where am I going?_

He stopped in front of a pine tree, gasping to put out the fire burning in his lungs. He leaned against the tree, his tears illuminated by the dying golden light. He knew what the right thing to do was. He should go home, wait for Alfred with an apology and dinner ready and just forget today ever happened. He should talk it out with the blond, and fade back into his life with Germany forever banished from his mind.

And yet…

What if America didn't come home? What if he could never look past their kiss? What if he blamed him forever? What if the blonde doubted his feelings and broke up with him?

All he knew for sure was that Ludwig was waiting for him and willing to take all those risks with him. He was putting himself on the line and risking everything for the mere chance of Italy's arrival. What was he suppose to make of that? Was this not Germany choosing him, and America abandoning him? He couldn't be sure.

He shivered as the cold night air coiled around him and nipped at his tan skin. He needed to get inside. But where should he go? Back home? Should he meet with Germany? His head was spinning into a thundering headache as he sat there, cold and alone on the hard dirt packed ground.

He leaned against the tree, wishing beyond anything else that he had someone he could trust in the world. Someone who he could always rely upon and never have a fear of losing. He wished he had a friend who wasn't selfish like his brother, in love with him like Germany, or emotionally distant like Japan.

Pain seared through Italy's heart as he thought this. He loved all of them so desperately, so fiercely. So much that it hurt. He felt like the most ungrateful person in the world thinking like that. He had a brother who he loved, two wonderful friends and a sweet, handsome boyfriend. He had no right to complain.

Feliciano closed his eyes, his breath was puffing out into small white clouds in the frigid air, and for the second time he decided he needed to get up to move. He had to get inside, and again the problem arose. Where should he go?

He had to make a decision. It was getting late and he either had to go looking for Alfred or run back to Ludwig.

He let out another puff of air and stood up opening his eyes to the dark scenery about him. His body was locked on a destination, his mind oddly blank. He knew what this decision was cowardly and selfish, but it had to be done.

It was a mistake he just had to make.

...

Alfred tore his glasses from his face and vigorously rubbed the perspiration off the fog-clouded glass as he leaped out of his car. The blonde nation felt rage course through his veins as he approached a vastly remote desert-like area and pulled out a .22 magnum from his coat.

He huffed angrily as he stared out into the vast outback, night rapidly descending on the usually golden scenery. He turned and stomped hotly over to the shooting range. He knew it was well after hours, but a few clips would usually set him straight. He was America for goodness sake who was going to stop him?

He saw red as he stared down the target venomously as he hastily loaded his gun and fired, imagining Germany kissing his sweet, innocent little boyfriend. Ok, innocent was a little strong. But in the blonde's eyes the Italian nation was about as bright eyed and optimistic as a child.

Blasting gunfire broke the silence. Bullet after bullet was shot blindly as tears clogged Alfred's vision. What had Italy been thinking? What had _he_ been thinking? He shouldn't have let Italy go, why had he let Italy go? And why did his boyfriend want to meet with the German so bad?

He yelled out in frustration and he fired off the last of his bullets rapidly. The rush of adrenalin left his heart pounding against his chest. He gulped down a breath of frosty night air sending chills down his spine and freezing his chest.

What was he thinking? What the hell was he thinking? Italy wasn't his property. He had every right to hang out with Germany. It wasn't his fault Ludwig kissed him. Besides that Feliciano had the grace to tell him right away, he hadn't hidden it from him and Feli certainly wasn't going to leave him. He knew he wouldn't.

Panic pierced America's nerves and his bloodstream ran cold. He had left Italy alone, stormed out of the house, and said 'I need to think'. His poor little boyfriend must be terrified! He was supposed to be the hero, Italy's hero. What was he doing here alone with a gun? He had to go home and apologize! Alfred stuffed the gun back into his coat and sprinted back towards his car. His breathing intensified as he opened the door, dug his key into the ignition and turned.

He had to get home.

He didn't know how long he had been standing there thinking, but it was at least a forty minute drive home and he had no time to waste.

America gripped the steering wheel with an iron grip, still gasping for breath as he sped away. Oh man, what on earth was he going to tell Feli? He was such a dumbass! It felt like forever as he drove rapidly through the night, hoping his Italy was all right.

He finally stopped as he pulled into the driveway. Alfred slammed on the brakes, yanked out his key and ran back into the house. He stopped short of crashing into anything, and decided on a more subtle approach.

"Um, Feli?" He called softly. He sounded as if he was calling a frightened kitten. "Hello?"

Alfred walked throughout the house, softly calling for the little Italian. He lapped around at least twice. Finally, panic fully gripped America, where was Italy? He had been all around the house; everything was how he left it. Which unfortunately included Italy's cellphone which he'd found on the kitchen table.

He felt beyond panicked for the third time that night. His heart was physically aching; he had to find Feliciano!

He ran out into the backyard and yelled into the night. "Feli! Feli?" He scrambled around the yard like an idiot, helplessly calling out Italy's name into the darkness. Finally, he gave up and ran inside, desperate for some direction.

So he dove for the phone and dialed a familiar number, his foot thumping on the floor at a mile a minute. Finally, and a groggy voice answered. "Hello? Who is this eh?"

"Mattie! Bro, I so need your help right now!" America went on to hastily explain everything that happened, desperately begging his younger brother for help.

"Wow, you're in a real pickle eh Al?" Canada calmly stated, causing the American to feel half angry, half terrified.

"I really need help Mattie! I can't find Feli and I'm about to have a heart attack!"

"Alfred." The Canadian sighed, sounding tired and a little irritated. "Go to sleep, eh? Italy just needs time to cool down and be away."

"But I don't know where he is! What if he's hurt? Or what if something happens and he leaves me in the morning? Germany kissed him for crying out loud!" He yelled, hoping his Canadian twin would sympathize.

"I know Al, and that's something you two have to work out but if Feliciano wants to be alone you should give him his space." The Canadian nation murmured, sounding even drowsier than before. "Here's what _I_ think you should do." Alfred's ears pricked and he stood ridged, ready to take his twin brother's advice. "Have something to eat, go to sleep," America glanced at the clock, it was almost one o'clock in the morning. "...and wait for Italy in the morning. If he isn't back home by tomorrow afternoon call me and we'll figure it out, ok?"

Alfred smiled serenely, that sounded reasonable. "Alright, thanks Mattie." After a few moments of satisfaction, his heart began to sink. What if he never came back? He felt an uncomfortable weight settle in his stomach. "Damn it Matt, I miss him already. I don't want to sleep alone!"

"Go to bed Al."

The line went dead.

 **(AN):**

 **Holy cow the escalated quickly!**

 **I'm sorry for the poor quality of this writing! This fic is a little old and I've been spending all day editing it, but I know it's still pretty bad. Hopefully I'll be done with this one-shot I've been working on by next week and upload that. I think the quality is at least a little better for that one anyway.**

 **Thanks for all the reviews! You guys are seriously the best!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Italy silently slid the back door open, cursing himself for not remembering to lock the door on his way out. He felt the weight of the day bruising his shoulders as he shed his coat and threw it onto the couch. There was a little grumble and the Italian had to stifle a shriek as a figure emerged in the dark.

"Oh my goodness you scared the gelato out of me!" Italy sighed when he recognized the figure, clutching his thundering heart. "What are you-?"

America launched from the couch, grabbed Italy by the waist and pulled him down into a bruising kiss. Italy sighed sadly against Alfred's lips. He was still feeling guilty from what happened earlier. But he leaned in and looped his arms around the blond nation's neck, tilting his head back for better access. The duo separated, and Alfred rested his hand on the older county's cheek.

"I'm so sorry please don't leave again!" He whispered, pressing their foreheads together, looking down intensely into the brunette's chocolate eyes. "I love you."

"Alfred," Italy soothed, running his hand through America's blond locks, knowing it turned the cerulean-eyed nation into a docile little puppy. "Sh, calm down sweetie." The Italian nation cooed, rubbing his nose against American's, causing the blond to practically purr at the Italian nation's gentle touch.

"Sorry." The blonde whined, Italy smiled softly and planted a light kiss on the younger nation's nose.

Italy pressed their cheeks together, relieved at finally just being close to America. But guilt and fear was still crawling throughout his veins. There was no way the American could find out where he had gone tonight.

Alfred rubbed his pale cheek against Feliciano's tan one. Italy turned and gave the blond another quick kiss on the cheek. "Lets go upstairs to bed, ok?" America whispered drowsily, blindly grabbing for Feli's.

"Mhm." The auburn-haired nation agreed, allowing the younger country to lead him upstairs to their room.

They didn't bother to change into their nightclothes. Instead the duo resigned and crawled underneath the plethora of blankets. Italy hummed serenely as Alfred pulled him flushed against his chest. Feliciano put one hand over the American's heart and entwined their legs together.

Feliciano smiled as Alfred gifted him with a feather-light kiss on the lips before the younger country buried his face in Italy's auburn locks, murmuring softly. "Goodnight Feli."

Italy reinforced his grip on America, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. It had been an insane day of emotional turmoil and confusion; he just wanted it to end. So he laughed softly and whispered almost indistinctly into America's ear. "Night Al. I love you."

He had made the right decision after all.

Hadn't he?

...

Alfred woke up slowly, light filtering through the open shades of a window. He blinked his cerulean eyes several times before he groaned weakly at the drowsiness weighing on the back of his mind. He shifted slightly, pulling the blankets up to his chin. He realized through his bleary, half-asleep state that Italy was curled up next to him, the brunette's head pressing against his chest.

America smiled a little and kissed Feli's shining hair softly, hoping he wouldn't wake him up just yet. He just wanted to snuggle up with his boyfriend in peace for a little longer before they had to face the consequences of last night. He tried to force thoughts of the night before out of his mind as he wrapped his arms around Feliciano's petite figure.

As he lay there however, questions kept popping up in the blond nation's mind. Where did Italy go last night? Why did he come back so late? He sighed and shifted his head so his lips were pressed against the brunette's forehead. He didn't want to fight; he hated to fight with Italy. It always made him feel guilty and nothing good ever came out of it. A fight only spelled hurt feelings and lonely nights, so the pair tried to avoid them if at all possible.

But this one was obviously unavoidable, the blonde wanted to know where Italy had gone, and Italy wanted to know where he had gone. He inhaled sharply, trying to force down the pain that squeezed his heart at the thought of how he had stormed out last night. He just couldn't handle how pissed he felt. Germany had broken Italy's heart. He didn't have any right to come after him now, especially after he had moved on. It wasn't fair to either of them.

Then a sudden thought struck him. Alfred hadn't asked how the kiss had happened. He gripped Italy tighter as the thought crossed his mind. What _had_ happened exactly…?

The question was eating slowly away at America's conscious. So much so he managed to pluck up the courage to wake up the slumbering Italian, wanting to get answers so they could just move on.

So, gently as he could, the American nation untangled himself from Italy and placed his hands on his boyfriend's shoulders and shook.

The brunette groaned a little and slowly slid his shimmering eyelids open, revealing clouded chocolate brown eyes. "Morning." He yawned, rubbing one of his eyes in a way that made Alfred's lips curl into a tiny smile. He couldn't resist propping himself up by his elbow, leaning in, and kissing Italy softly on the lips. This caused the Italian to smile softly up at the blond with his chocolate eyes shining in the golden sunlight.

And then the awkward set in. "So, um…"

"I'll start." The blonde said abruptly, taking one of Italy's hands and fiddling with the brunette's slim fingers, stroking their soft exterior. A nervous habit. Feliciano shifted so he was on his stomach and moved closer to Alfred, allowing him to fiddle distractedly with his hand. Alfred's smile widened very briefly, then he took a deep breath and began. "I'm so sorry for running off on you last night. I'm sorry for overreacting, and I'm sorry I made you worry." He murmured still looking down at his hands fiddling with Italy's tan fingers. He saw Italy nod and he replied softly.

"I'm sorry for the kiss, and I'm sorry for disappearing as well." Italy shifted slightly closer to America.

"Let me go first, ok?." Alfred insisted, moving his blue eyes to finally meet his lustrous brown eyes. "I can't apologize enough for running out on you. I'm sorry I just needed some air. But I know you hate being left alone, so I'm sorry."

"It's ok, I did run off too." He admitted, looking down at Alfred's still working fingers. "Where did you end up going?"

"The range." He replied without hesitation. "I shoot sometimes when I get upset."

"I know." Alfred noted his fiddling with the brunette's was getting more rapid. "But it was late, wasn't it closed?" Alfred nodded silently and his gaze turned back down to his fingers. "But you left right away, where did you get the gun?"

Alfred shrugged. "I carry one with me on hand."

Feliciano froze for just a moment. "Oh... I don't know how I feel about that."

He didn't want to argue about this. He just wanted to get this whole Germany thing out of the way. He bit his tongue and buried to urge to fight for his right to bear arms in favor of the argument at hand. "Never mind that. Where did you run off to last night?" He asked grumpily, abruptly dropping the brunette's hand.

Italy had that pouty frown that fixed itself on his face whenever he got upset during an argument. "I-I didn't really go anywhere. I ended up falling asleep in the field and woke up because I was cold." He said shakily.

Alfred's eyes widened, concern blotting out his anger. "Oh my gosh! Are you alright?" He placed a hand hurriedly to Italy's forehead. "You're not gonna get sick are you? Because the last time Iggy was sick he almost died! And my burgers didn't even help!" His voice had returned to it's usual high pitched, childlike tone.

Italy nodded, gently removing America's hand from his forehead. "I was cold, but I'm alright. I'm not going to get sick, and I'm not going to die." He assured flatly.

The brunette went on to explain the events that led up to Germany kissing him. Alfred visibly shook with fury, his momentary freakout forgotten. How _dare_ that German bastard touch his boyfriend after he told him that there was nothing there anymore? He glared angrily at the blue blankets below him.

Alfred seized up as Italy grabbed his hand again, recognizing the touch the blond nation relaxed and gave the nation's hand a quick squeeze. "I'm so sorry Al."

"No. You shouldn't be saying that, it's Germany that should be apologizing." Italy leaned forward and kissed him on the side of the mouth. He sighed knowing Feliciano only did that when he was trying to calm him down. Which it did when he was mildly frustrated. Right now though, he was beyond pissed. Not at Italy necessarily, mostly at Germany and at himself.

Italy wrapped his arms around America's torso and the blonde looked down but Italy wasn't looking up. He had a faraway gaze in his wide, concerned chocolate eyes. It tugged at America's heart to see the Italian nation looking so forlorn. He wrapped his arms around Feli, kissing the top of the older nation's head.

"I still don't want you hanging out with Germany anymore." Italy visibly wilted but Alfred sighed. "Look I gave it a chance and look what happened, even with Japan there."

Italy sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. He sat there in silence for a while. Finally, he murmured softly, as though asking this physically hurt him. "What if we only hung out if you were with me? That way we could all try and get along."

Alfred felt a jab of awkwardness in the pit of his stomach. He considered himself a social butterfly, but Germany? He didn't think so. "But he hates me." _And I hate him._ He thought privately, knowing saying it would only cause more problems.

"I know." He sighed, and looked up at the blonde nation. "And I know that sounds really bad, but I hate losing friends. I just feel like if I lose Germany, I'll lose Japan and I'm already losing-" Italy broke off looking a little bit shocked before he squeaked. "I'm so sorry just forget it."

"No, I understand. You and Romano have been distant lately and this was the first time you've hung out with Japan in months. I think I can handle it every now and again." He hesitated before adding. "As long as it's like, once every few months."

Italy looked up and smiled at his boyfriend, his eyes brightened considerably, his smile caused Alfred to also let one slip, his lips curling up without his consent. "Grazie Alfred." He planted a small kiss on the blond nation's cheek before he rested his head over the American's shoulder; both sensing the argument was coming to a close.

"That wasn't so painful." Italy sighed sliding his eyelids closed and nuzzling into America's shoulder. "I don't think it was too bad. I forgive you for last night." He sounded exhausted as he shifted closer the American. Alfred smiled despite the angry irritation still stinging his skin.

"I forgive you too. Can we move on?" He begged gripping the older country tighter. "After I give Germany a piece of my mind?" He added, not wanting to leave that loose end unraveled.

Italy lifted his head off his shoulder, placing it instead over his chest so his ear was resting again over Alfred's beating heart and said reluctantly. "Si. But can you please do it with words? I don't want you fighting over me."

"He didn't use words when he touched you." He snarled firing up at once. "And you're worth fighting for."

"That doesn't make me feel any better about it." Feli whimpered.

"...alright." Al conceded, hating the sad note in Italy's exhausted voice. "Damn this is a mess."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I just have to talk to Germany and we'll get this whole thing settled and done with." Alfred gripped Italy's chin lightly and turned his head so their eyes locked and he smiled brightly down at the little nation. "Then we can move past this completely."

Italy smiled jovially up at his boyfriend and pecked Alfred's lips happily. The blonde nation unlocked their hands, slipped his fingers through Italy's auburn hair and pulled Feli into a much more passionate kiss, missing the Italian nation's closeness in the recent hours. Italy didn't hesitate to loop his arms around America's neck and began to kiss back, sliding his eyelids closed.

Alfred leaned down, about to deepen the kiss before his stomach growled obnoxiously, causing the blond to freeze in his actions and his face to burn with embarrassment. Italy pulled away and giggled cutely before pressing his palm against America's soft cheek. "Time for breakfast I think." He smiled softly and grabbed the blond nation by the hand, dragging the larger nation to his feet.

The duo walked downstairs and Italy began cooking them some eggs and bacon for breakfast. Alfred admired his boyfriend from afar, his blue eyes glittering in adoration and he realized, his eyes widening as he did so, there was no way he wanted to lose him. He knew what he had to do.

He had to talk to Japan. Today. As soon as possible. He wanted to know why the raven-haired man had left his boyfriend alone after he had asked him to stay and help him out. He needed answers.

 **(AN):**

 **Sorry this is so short guys! Usually my chapters are pretty long so this one feels a little sad . I promise things will pick up in the next chapter, which will be longer. I posted this a little early because I'm going to be gone all of tomorrow. Expect the next chapter (or a one-shot) next Saturday!**

 **Thanks for the views and reviews! (Even if I can't look at my views right now, is having a moment and I can't look at them ;-; hopefully they get my email eventually!)**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

America tapped his foot rapidly against the floor as he waited impatiently alone in a booth. He had called Japan earlier and requested to talk to him about what happened yesterday. He wanted to know exactly what had happened.

Alfred wasn't usually the one to arrive early. He'd sat there for nearly ten minutes before he had realized that he'd gotten there half an hour early on accident. He huffed as he looked down at his second cup of coffee, this was one of his favorite places to get it and he really didn't have much else to do at this point. He didn't have enough time to go home, but he was still sufficiently bored just sitting around. He didn't even have enough time to order something.

He looked down at his watch and glanced back out of the window, hoping the Asian country would be early as usual. He was not disappointed. "Alfred?" The blue-eyed nation whipped around at the sound of his friend's voice and his face broke out into a smile at his pensive friend.

"Hey man! I was starting to think you wouldn't show up!" He exclaimed happily, gesturing to the seat opposite him. "C'mon sit down!'

"Thank you." Japan bowed and took the seat saying politely. "You're early. That is very unusual. I-I mean no offense of course. This is a good thing. An improvement on your part." He said hurriedly

"Haha! Actually I forgot we wanted to meet at 1:30. I thought we were meeting at 1:00, sorry!" He admitted cheerily, taking another sip of his coffee.

Japan sighed. "Well, perhaps you will improve for future meetings." Alfred grinned sheepishly at the older nation. He knew the Japanese man couldn't stand to say anything negative in front of him out of pure politeness.

"Sure thing dude!" He replied, knowing that was a long shot. He just wanted to get down to the point, being the impatient country he knew he was.

"So um, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?" The Japanese country asked, his eyes unwavering and his expression carefully concealed. America pretended not to notice.

"Oh, I just wanted to catch up." He said casually taking a sip of his coffee. "So, how was lunch with Ludwig and Feli yesterday?" He asked, hoping he didn't sound too eager for the information.

Japan sucked in a small breath and said quietly. "Um, well it went alright."

"Uh huh." The blonde crossed his arms and said, trying his best not to sound too accusing. "So, a thing came up with your boss? What was that all about?"

The Japanese nation looked down, his face splattered with color. "Hai, that is correct." He said slowly.

"What did you have to do that couldn't wait?" He asked, causing Kiku to look positively panicked.

"I uh-" He sighed, and America noted his 'I'm about to cave' face. "Why are you so interested Alfred?"

The blond shrugged, knowing he had asked about it too quickly. "I'm just curious. Feli didn't really want to talk about it much. With Ludwig there and all I just thought you could tell me how it went and all."

Kiku looked away, looking guilty and nervous. "I-I see, well, I didn't really have anywhere I we needed per say..."

America frowned, anger bubbling up in his chest. "Wait what?"

Kiku nodded, his face falling back into an unreadable vale as he said quickly, the words reluctant to leave his lips. "Ludwig has been distant and depressed these last few years without Feliciano." The nation sighed, his head bowing in shame as he continued. "I-I believe Feliciano always makes Ludwig happy. You must understand I just want my friends to be happy. So I decided to help Ludwig get Feliciano back. The plan was to leave them alone and-and." The Japanese nation shuttered under the American nation's steadily enraged expression, Kiki's body began to shake as he plowed on reluctantly. "To um, ask Feliciano about his feelings and, well, to ask him to come over to Ludwig's house and speak with him in private if he felt anything romantic towards Ludwig anymore. If not, Ludwig was suppose to drop it and the two would simply remain friends. So everyone is happy..."

Alfred's heart seemed to stop, his blood thickened and lightheadedness shrouded his vision and choked his senses. "A-and did he?"

Japan appeared more frightened at the American's deadened tone and desperately livid cerulean eyes than he had at the blonde nation's initial outburst. "I do not believe so as you and he are clearly still together, am I correct?"

Alfred barely heard him as his mind buzzed with wild theories and his body began to shake uncontrollably. Had Italy _lied_ to him? Did the brunette go the Germany's, confess and prolong their breakup? Why? "Yeah." He replied breathlessly.

America's chest tightened and he found oxygen harder and harder to come by. "He, did… leave for a few hours last night but…" the blond nation felt his eyes drop to his coffee. Numbness crawled throughout his veins; did Feli really not go _anywhere_ last night?

"I have to go Japan." He murmured, hastily paying for his coffee, only one goal in mind as he grabbed his jacket and turned away from the table. "I'll talk to you later."

"G-goodbye Mr. America." The Japanese nation stuttered. Alfred didn't look back as he bolted out the swinging doors, racing towards his car and shoving his keys into the ignition. Only one thought in his mind.

 _Italy._

...

Feliciano frowned as he stared down at his phone, dread filling him with every passing second. He wanted to call, but he didn't want to call. Italy's instinct of course, was to let him just calm down and cool off on his own. Last night had gotten too far out of hand and something needed to be done about it, and soon.

Just as the brunette was about to either dial the first of the numbers or hang up the phone completely, the door opened with a bang causing him to jump right out of his skin. "Alfred?" He called tentatively, walking cautiously towards the front door. His heart hammered against his chest as heavy footsteps thundered against the floor.

America rounded the corner into the kitchen looking windswept and livid. Italy trembled a little and backed up, what had the American so vexed? Hadn't he just gone to chat with Japan? Italy knew the Asian nation to be friendly and not the irritating type, something was wrong.

Feliciano squeaked in fright as Alfred advanced, moving swiftly up to the brunette his eyes illuminated with indignation. The Italian nation took a step back but America snatched him by the wrist, effectively trapping the older country where he stood. Italy felt his heart thunder against his chest, his skin trembled as he started quivering under America's blue eyes.

"A-Alfred?" He stuttered as they stood there, frozen in an uncomfortably nerve numbing predicament. "What are you-?" Italy violently blanched when the blond nation expeditiously swiped Feliciano's other wrist and yanked him forward, their faces now mere millimeters from touching. The brunette could feel the American's still labored breath brush past his cheek.

Italy stood there his chocolate eyes incomprehensibly wide as America quivered his jaw fixed. He looked like he was struggling for something to say as he overshadowed and overpowered the brunette with his larger and more muscular figure. Italy couldn't say in the past two years he had been very afraid that America would hurt him, or hit him or beat him even when he did something stupid, or hopeless, or cowardly irrational. Right now on the other hand, Feli felt like Alfred might be tempted to do any number of those things.

But what had he done? Why was America just staring down at him furious beyond speech? He didn't understand, had something happened with Japan? Or had he found out about-?

"I can't believe you would do something like that!" He snarled, his voice almost indistinguishably hushed. Italy blinked and comprehension struck him like a bombshell.

"Alfred," He began, staring desperately into his cerulean eyes. He supposed it came as no surprise, this wasn't something he would generally do. "I'm sorry I lied but I-"

Italy gasped as Alfred shook him furiously, his grip tightening painfully on the brunette's thin wrists. "No! This is unacceptable! I can't believe you went to Germany's last night!" Tears were gathering in the older nation's illustrious eyes.

Italy gaped, completely shocked and appalled. "Wh-what? No, no Alfred that's not what-!"

"Don't you dare lie to me!" The blond bellowed. The brunette to futilely yank at his slim wrists, causing America to grip them tighter. The Italian mewl distressfully. "Japan told me all about it! Where the hell did you go last night and don't lie to me?"

A sob erupted painfully from Feli's chest, rocking his entire body. It took a moment for him to form a response. "A-alright. I went over to Spain's house-"

"You did not!" He insisted furiously, giving the brunette a little shake.

"W-why won't you believe me?" He shrieked, more frightened than anything else, all his instincts telling him to run from the big, bad scary country. But this was America he shouldn't be this afraid of him, it didn't feel right.

"You slut! Why the hell would you lie to me just to break up with me? I can't believe you!" Italy felt tears once again begin to run thick and fast down his soft cheeks, doubt and fear began burrowing their way into the depths of Italy's heart. It cracked his trust and chipped away at his feelings for the American.

Feliciano shuttered an intake of breath and said shakily. "I'm sorry I lied but that's the truth! Y-you can call Spain if you w-want. He'll tell you I was there." He stuttered averting his eyes from Alfred's crazed blue ones and whimpered tentatively. "Please let go of me. It h-hurts."

America shook with rage and shoved Italy to the ground letting the Italian's tan wrists go. Italy 'oofed' as he hit the wooden floor with a loud thump, his tears splattering from his face and onto the floor.

Italy watched in trembling silence as the American rapidly dialed in a number and stared the Italian down, nothing but a cold resolution in his cerulean eyes. Italy trembled beneath his gaze and hiccuped, weeping loudly as he looked down at his now bruised wrists. He felt the image of the American forcefully grabbing him in a bruising grip, looking down at him with hate in his blue eyes and yelling at him with accusation and distrust in his voice burrow in the back of his mind.

He sat there in silence, looking up behind his auburn bangs with wavering chocolate eyes. Finally it seemed someone had answered as the blond nation said calmly (though his eyes told a different story). "Hey, um, this is America… yeah just a quick question…yeah um, did Italy go over to your house last night…?" America's eyes widened and Italy knew he was busted, he felt his head bow in shame. How had he managed to lose so much in just one night?

Alfred's eyes continued to widen as he gazed down at the Italian. The brunette looked down, he was obviously hearing about what had happened at Spain's house. Italy felt a weighing despondency settle throughout his body as the blond nation gave him a desperately despairing look, one that he knew he would have to look past. Italy couldn't just forgive him right now. He'd really scared him and right now he didn't want to look at him.

"R-right um, thank you Spain I'll tell Italy to call him… bye." The American hung up, and turned to Italy his head bowed. Feliciano stood up, causing the blond to look up with deadened eyes.

Italy sighed, and decided to speak first. "You don't trust me."

"Feli-"

"Why won't you just believe me?" He demanded, his voice was flat and to the point.

"I-I don't know I'm sorry. I just wanted to protect you."

He clenched his fist and brought his wrist up to examine them closer. Italy shook his head, his arms dropping to his sides. "I think you should leave."

Italy turned away from America's crestfallen expression. "B-but Feli-!"

"Please, just get out. I-I need some time to think. Please." He begged, hoping the blond would just leave him to his thoughts.

"I'm sorry! Please Feli-!" Al begged.

"Just get out I don't want to hear it right now!" He screamed. Alfred nodded and walked slowly to the door, looking desperately back as he swung open the door.

"Are we, over then?" Italy felt himself soften and shake his head.

"No. I just need time to think. I'll call you, soon." He gently nudged the blonde off the threshold with both of his hands and made to close the door. Alfred grabbed his hand tenderly and stared into Italy's chocolate eyes.

"I love you." His forlorn voice dug deeply into the brunette's fragile heart. But he wouldn't let himself fall down that hole again.

"Goodbye, Alfred." And he closed the door on Alfred's big, blue eyes.

…

It took Italy a good hour to get control of himself. He didn't understand anything right now. Everyone was leaving him and even Japan had somehow known about what had happened and told America about Germany. Could he trust anyone if he couldn't even trust his closest friends and family? He cried on the kitchen floor for what felt like forever until he finally managed to control his sobbing.

He stared blankly at the floor, curled up in a hot mess of tears and snot. He hiccuped, trying to keep his despair at bay. He felt so lost, what was he suppose to do now? His life revolved around his friends and family, he loved all of them to death. But right now he felt like he couldn't call a single one of them to talk to.

But he did have one call to make, one he had been dreading for as long as he knew he would have to make it. So he got up, went to the bathroom and started to clean himself up, blew his nose, washed his face and grabbed the phone, took a deep breath and dialed in the familiar numbers, tapping his foot nervously before a familiar irate voice answered. "Who are you and what the hell do you want?"

"Fratello? It's Veneciano." He began nervously, trembling at the prospect of talking to his brother after last night.

"Eh? What do you want you ungrateful bastard?" His brother snapped, but Italy could easily identify the longing in his voice. It was something he was adept at picking up from years of living together.

"I-I'm sorry for last night!" He blubbered, trying his hardest not to burst out into tears. "I'm sorry I yelled at you! I'm sorry please forgive me I love you Romano!" He yelled, tears silently falling from his eyes as much as he tried to stop them.

There was long silence from the other end and for a moment Feliciano thought Lovino must have hung up on him, but finally he replied. "I shouldn't have yelled. I know how much you like that hamburger eating bastard. I just wish you were around more often. You're always visiting him lately."

Italy stifled a whimper as he replied. "I know. I'm so sorry." He hadn't told Lovino that they had pretty much moved in together, it would only make things worse. He'd tell him when he'd gotten used to Alfred. He had to force the thought that he might not have to worry about that after all to the back of his mind.

There was another tense pause before the older Italian asked accusingly. "Are you crying? Tell me the truth!"

Italy, much to his credit, had become adapt at crying silently, mostly for his own sanity. It happened around the time Holy Rome disappeared, he never wanted to bother Mrs. Hungary or Mr. Austria so he learned quickly how to stifle his voice. But Romano knew him better than almost anyone else and could see past him to easily. He wouldn't lie. "Yes."

"... Is it because of me?" Romano whispered.

"Wha-? No! Not at all, oh Lovino-"

"Then I was right! It was that bastard America wasn't it? Tell me everything or I'm coming over with my shotgun and blowing that asshole's brain's out!" Lovino shrieked, making Italy flinch away from the phone, fear spiking his entire being.

So he decided to just finally come clean and tell him everything. Italy found that doing otherwise when it came to Romano was usually a big mistake. Feliciano's tears began to dry as he ranted rapidly through the events that had been unfolding around him. He mentioned Germany and the restaurant and his strange offer, he told him about the night he and America had fought about the kiss and the next day when America accused him of cheating.

To his surprise and slight confusion, Romano stayed nearly silent throughout the entire thing (spare the occasional scoff or snort) it was both terrifying and relieving. This uncharacteristic silence was almost scaring him, but being able to get all of this off his chest was liberating beyond expression.

When he finally fell silent the conversation was dowsed in awkward tension. Italy wasn't sure what his twin was thinking and it terrified him.

"Lovi? Are you still there?" He asked tentatively. "Hello?"

"When I get my hands on those blond idiots I'm going to strangle them, tie them up by their ankles and shoot both of their heads off!" Italy squeaked in fright as his brother's overprotectiveness spilled over in the rush of the empty threats that followed.

It made Italy shake and yell panicked into the receiver. "Calm down please fratello! I beg you don't hurt them!"

"And why the hell not? Neither of them seem to think twice about ripping out your heart and trampling right over it like the clumsy bastards they are! Spain! Get the battle axe-!"

"No! Ve, please don't do anything Roma I don't want you to get hurt." Italy whined, hoping to coax the brunette away from his violent mood. "I'll figure it out I promise."

"You better." Lovi growled. "Or else I'll have to clean up your mess again!"

Feliciano nodded, content with that answer and said. "I will! So are we alright then?"

"Yeah, yeah whatever." Romano muttered. "Talk to you soon."

"Ciao!"

…

Alfred felt nothing but numbness as he sat on his bed, his cerulean eyes blurring with unshed tears as he tried desperately to get Italy's frightened expression out of the back of his mind.

What was going to happen to them now? How could he possibly make it up to Feliciano after this? He had hurt him, that was something he never thought he would do before! He felt dirty, like a ticking time bomb. He didn't even realize he was capable of such violence towards someone he loved so much.

And then an image of England, on his knees in the rain, sobbing his heart out filled America's vision and he felt a million times worse. Was he only capable of hurting those closest to him? What on Earth was he suppose to do?

He needed help, so he decided to call the only person he knew who wouldn't judge him (openly, at the very least). So, he wiped at his eyes and ran for the phone, hoping he wouldn't sound like the mess he knew he looked. He tapped his foot impatiently on the ground waiting for his twin brother to pick up.

"Hello! This is Cana-"

"Mattie! I'm in big trouble I need your help please I'm begging you, I messed up big time with Feli! I yelled, and he kicked me out and I don't know what to do without him and-!"

"Alfred, why don't you calm down now eh? Just take three deep breaths and tell me exactly what happened ok?" The Canadian murmured softly. He obeyed, if a little hastily.

"Better?" Canada asked, making Alfred calm down and begin spilling his guts, the story slipping passed his lips in a waterfall information. By the time he was finished, Canada was shocked into utter silence, which only made the blond's panic increase.

"Mattie? Tell me what to do I don't know what to do! I love him and I'm pretty sure he hates me!" Alfred despaired, clutching at his dirty blonde locks, tears beginning to reform in his eyes.

"I-I don't know Al." Canada sighed. "I'm still confused, why did you grab Italy like that?"

"I don't know! All I could see was him rushing back to Germany's arms, and I just lost it. I haven't gotten that violent with someone who meant that much to me since-" Alfred shut his mouth. He never talked about the revolutionary war, even around Matthew who know all about it. It still hurt to know how much he hurt England by leaving him. "Well, you know." He muttered, hoping Canada would just let it go.

Matthew sighed pausing for a few moments before he replied. "I think the only thing you can do is apologize, try to explain and beg for forgiveness eh? There's no real trick to it Al but you should give him some time to think, okay?"

"B-but what if he decides that he hates me and breaks up with me?"

"Well if you go up there now he won't appreciate it. He needs space and time to think it over. If you just go over there now, all he's going to think about is you hurting him. Give him time to air out and wait for him to call you. Don't press this because if you do he's going to break up with you." Canada reasoned. "Have some food and get some sleep eh?"

America nodded, then realized a moment later Canada couldn't see him. "Alright," He sighed. "Thanks bro."

"It's no trouble Al, I hope everything works out for you!"

"Thanks. Just a question, how long do you think I should wait? I-if he doesn't call you know..."

There was a tense pause before he replied. "A week. If he hasn't said anything by then call him. If by Monday he hasn't returned any of your calls you should go over there."

America nodded trying to burn the information into the back of his mind. "Thanks Mattie. I owe you." Alfred smiled, an unrelenting wave of gratitude towards the Canadian hitting him like a train. "I love you bro."

"I love you too Al." Canada replied. "Good luck. go get 'em."

"Thanks. Bye!"

"Goodbye."

Alfred hung up, feeling at least slightly better now that he had a plan. He took Canada's advice and had a few burgers before crawling into bed, a dull ache and bad memories plaguing his every moment. The bed felt cold and desolate without Italy there with him. He scowled down at his sheets as though it was their fault he felt so cold with no one to sleep next to. He tossed and turned, looking out the window, wondering what Feli was doing right now and how he was holding up.

Was Italy thinking about him? Did he feel alone and abandoned? Was he rethinking their relationship? Did he perhaps already decide to break up with him and was just wondering how to break it to him? What if, dare he think it, Italy really did go back to Germany because of him? This thought sent tears rushing back to Alfred's eyes, he felt his stomach convulse with pain and his body curl up in itself.

But there was one thing that comforted America beyond anything Canada could have said to him. One small beacon of light in the vast distance that was the week to follow and that was the fact Italy hadn't in fact, dumped him yet. If in the heat of the moment the brunette couldn't find it within himself to tell him they were over, would he be able to do it after he had calmed down?

Just that simple technicality made the blond nation's entire fame relax considerably. He fell asleep, imagining Italy tucking him in and leaving a soft his on his cheek as he shut the door behind him.

 **(AN):**

 **Hello! Ok, before you kill me let me explain.**

 **My interpretation of America includes him having separation issues since the revolutionary war. He's afraid of people leaving him and losing people. He also doesn't quite know his own strength, so he didn't _mean_ to hurt Italy like he did, he just didn't want him running off. He just wanted him to listen and now he's kicking himself for it as you can clearly see.**

 **I'm sorry! I hated doing that but it had to be done!**

 **was only recently fixed so I haven't been able to see how many people have been viewing my stories, but I appreciate them! Thank you very much for all the lovely reviews!**

 **Special thanks to Nebula Galaxies. She/he has been giving my stories a lot of love lately and if you're reading this I appreciate you and what you do for my stories!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Italy hummed as he went about making breakfast just for one, gazing out the window on the shimmering hot day. It had only been three days since he kicked Alfred out of his house and he still didn't know what he was going to do about it. He couldn't just ignore him forever, he didn't think he could. But he didn't exactly want to see him right now either.

Despite the warm weather the Italian nation was wearing a long sleeved shirt to cover up the dark, nasty bruises that now adorned his thin wrists. They stood testament to what America had done to him. He hated looking at them almost as much as he hated covering them up with makeup. But he could live with wearing a simple long sleeved shirt even if he still felt like a bit of a coward for doing so.

Italy shook his head to clear his thoughts before turning back to the frying pan and loading up his plate with food he didn't even begin to have an appetite for. nonetheless he sat down and began eating knowing if he didn't he would regret not having had breakfast later. He cleaned off his plate and just left the dishes in the sink with not the faintest idea of what he was going to do the entire day. Just as he was about to call Romano again to check in on his twin there was a knock on the door.

The brunette seized up, part with fear, part with dread. Could that be Alfred already here to face him again? It didn't really matter though, Italy didn't really want company right now whoever it was. Maybe he could just pretend he wasn't here?

"Italy? Are you there?" Feliciano's hands flew to his mouth, that wasn't America at all; it was-

"Germany?" He called, taking a few hesitant steps towards the door, curiosity overtaking him as he opened his door gazing up at the taller nation quizzically. "What are you doing here?"

The nation in question was standing with his head slightly bowed, a forlorn expression mourning his usually stern features. "I just came to apologize for my behavior the other day. That was inappropriate and uncalled for as I knew you were in a relationship. I just want everything to be normal between the two of us again. I hope you can forgive me."

Italy's eyes swelled with sympathy. Had Germany really thought he was that upset? "Oh, that's alright Ludwig. I guess we never really talked about that did we? Would you like to come in?"

Germany's eyes flashed with disbelief for a moment before he nodded mutely stepping into Italy's house. Feliciano flashed him a reassuring smile saying softly. "Lets sit in the living room."

Germany coughed awkwardly before asking sheepishly. "Is America here?"

Italy hummed mournfully and shook his head, his gaze hitting the floor. Germany looked inquiringly down at him but Italy was already skipping towards the living room the Germanic nation only a few steps behind him. It seemed like an eternity before they arrived at the desired room, Italy flopping down on the couch while Germany sat next to him not far from the Italian.

The brunette smiled in an attempt to make to situation less awkward. It did little to help. Germany cleared his throat before saying hesitantly. "Urm, well, I guess we should get started."

Italy just nodded numbly, trying to think of a good place to begin. "Germany, it's not that I don't like you, or that I never did like you, like _that_ -" he began, hoping Germany would understand. "But I just need us to be friends right now. Is that alright?"

Germany simply nodded mutely, giving Italy a sad, almost nonexistent smile. "Of course I understand. I hope you can forgive my actions."

Italy returned Germany's smile with a huge grin. "I forgive you Germany. But that can't ever happen again, alright?" Germany nodded again, that was good enough for him. He clapped his hands together feeling more jovial than he had all week. "There! Now, would you like some coffee?"

Germany glanced at Italy, his icy blue eyes revealing nothing about what he felt inside. With a faint nod and a slight grin, Italy nodded as he got approval and leaped off to get some coffee for Germany.

Germany sat back against the couch, face resting in the palm of his hand as his mind wondered. He ruffled his light blonde hair as his fingers ran through it, and glanced around the room. His thoughts were mainly based on America and Italy.

"Tsk. My enemy with my friend. I still can't believe that nonsense." He muttered softly to himself. His gaze hardened, as Italy headed back into the room.

"Here is your coffee Germany!"

"Eh, thank you Italy." Germany dipped his head in thanks, and grasped the cup gently. Italy bounded off across the room. Germany took a sip from his cup, but when he looked up Italy was reaching up to grab a coaster from atop the cabinet in the corner. Germany watched as his long sleeves slipped past his thin arms revealing in the light spilling in from the window dark, purple bruises that marred his tan skin.

Germany's whole figure froze, he stopped halfway through sipping at his coffee shock rocking through his veins making, his limbs feel weak. Where had Italy gotten a bruise like that? The Italian nation came back and placed the coaster on the coffee table. Speechless and horrified Germany's hand flew to Feliciano's forearm before Italy could retreat, he gripped it gently in his hand.

Italy's chocolate eyes widened fearfully down at his German friend, his arm twitched with the breakneck instinct to jerk his arm away; but he hesitated gazing into Germany's concerned ice-blue eyes. So he allowed Germany to gently pull him once again onto the couch next to him. Italy's eyes beginning to water and he averted his gaze as the blond nation slowly slid Italy's sleeve up above his elbow. The brunette whimpered softly as Germany ran his fingers gently over the discolored skin on his wrist.

"Italy," Ludwig began, the concern in his voice was heartbreaking. "Where is America?"

Italy suppressed a sob, his chest shuddering with shaky breath as he struggled to answer. "I-I don't know." He said finally, turning his tear filled gaze back on the younger nation.

Germany was looking at him intensely his blue eyes a mix of concern and determination. "Who did this to you? Who hurt you?" He asked, authority in his still unwavering deep tone.

Italy closed his eyes, the tears finally slipping down his cheeks and Italy found he could no longer keep his sobs at bay as images of a raging America demanding answers he didn't have flashed before his eyes. Feliciano stiffened as Ludwig leaned forward wrapping his strong arms around the Italian nation's small frame, giving him a quick but strong squeeze. Italy buried his face into Germany's chest feeling his whole body submit to him, rejoicing silently in his usually shy friend's unusual affection. He shut his eyes and pressed his ear to Germany's chest, finding a calm reassurance in the repetitive beating of his heart.

After what felt like forever, Germany whispered into the silence. "How long have you been here by yourself?"

Italy hummed softly his eyes opening revealing bloodshot eyes. "Three days." He whispered, afraid to speak much louder.

"So he _did_ do this, did he?"

Italy nodded slowly repositioning his head so it rested on Germany's broad shoulder. Pain was radiating from his chest leaving his whole body aching. "I didn't think he would ever do something like that." He whimpered a great pressure constricting his stomach as he continued. "I don't know anything anymore. The night before we had a fight, then I went over to Spain's house and Romano and I fought and I thought you would never want to see me again-"

Italy squeaked as Germany's grip intensified but not painfully so. It was a comforting feeling. It made him feel elated, which distracted him from his sense of abandonment for the first time in three days.

"Italy, I don't think that has ever, or will ever be true." Germany separated from the hug but kept one arm wrapped around Italy. He gazed down at the Italian and gripped him underneath the chin, gently guiding Italy's brown gaze to his own. "I'm sorry it's been so long since I've seen you. I should have been there for you."

"No. You were recovering from the war and paying off debt. You didn't have time for me." He said it matter-of-factly, but Germany could sense the longing in his tone.

"Well," Germany tugged him closer and suddenly Italy was hyper aware of how just _how_ close they were and red flags began popping up everywhere. He was still involved with America. And yet- "I'm here now. And I'm not going to leave again."

The brunette just nodded mutely, his skin burning under the Germanic nation's touch. Italy swallowed staring into Germany's shockingly blue eyes, they were a much lighter hue than America's. It fascinated him how similar the two looked and yet they were so different. His mind flashed back to the look on America's face just before he had shut the door on him, now that he thought about it America looked as if he was going to cry…

This wasn't alright and Italy knew it. But something within him didn't want this moment to end. He was afraid if he breathed too hard it would shatter and he would be alone again. He closed his eyes as Germany began stroking his jawline tenderly with his thumb, and right there he knew he had to speak. He opened his chocolate eyes revealing to him Germany's determined ice-blue eyes.

Feliciano felt the words die on his tongue, what was wrong with him? He _had_ a boyfriend! He had to say something or he would do something he would regret. "Germany?" He whispered his features turning pleading. "I can't-"

He squeaked as Germany leaned in and left a lingering kiss on his jaw, tilting his head back as he did so. "Can't what?" He murmured, narrowing his soft, curious gaze onto him.

"Germany, America-"

"Screw that asshole." He growled wrapping one hand around Italy's waist, inching him steadily closer to him. "He doesn't deserve you."

Italy dropped his gaze from Germany's determined eyes. They had been filled with something suggestive too, which made his stomach uneasy. The Italian could hear his heart beat as he thought about what decision to make. Yes America had hurt him, but he still had been committed in a relationship.

Italy thought silently to himself, then lifted his chin to meet Germany's gaze. His blood ran cold as the blonde's hands rested on the Italian country's collarbone, his gaze dropping to Italy's skin. An awkward silence arose into the air as Germany continued to stare at Italy's exposed skin for another moment before his gaze turned back to Italy's, determination swimming in his eyes. One of the blonde country's hands was still grasping his face softly.

Italy felt his mind go blank as Germany leaned forward, slowly, deliberately pulling their faces closer. The brunette was practically in his lap at this point as Germany leaned down and pressed their lips together tenderly. He pulled Italy completely into his lap stroking his cheek softly with his thumb as Italy tensed his whole body going rigid a moment before returning the kiss hesitantly, humming softly as Germany smiled against his lips.

Germany moved his hand from Italy's collarbone to his chest right atop his heart. Italy whimpered softly as they kissed gently. It was nothing like the first time they kissed, it was sweet and slow. Italy melted into it for a moment before his eyes flashed open, and he realized what he was doing. He was still dating America for goodness sake! What was wrong with him?

So the Italian nation pulled slowly away from the Germanic nation's warm embrace, his head bowed abashedly, tears surfacing in his eyes as he squeezed them shut. Shame burned Feliciano's cheeks as he slid out of Ludwig's lap and pressed his palm to his cheek, his face veiling most of his face. He shook slightly shifting away from the blond nation slowly. Germany looked questioningly down at Italy his gaze making the Italian's insides squirm. "I'm still dating America." He whispered, horrified with himself. "I'm so sorry Germany," Italy whimpered shrilly. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Um, no that was my fault." Germany sighed his face falling considerably. "I shouldn't have done that, again."

"No it wasn't your fault. I shouldn't let these things keep happening to me." Italy mourned, wiping his eyes and wincing as his bruised wrists passed over his supple cheeks.

Germany reached out, his face half confused and half vexed. "Italy, what are you still doing with that monster?"

Italy removed his hands from his face and looked incredulously up at Germany's questioning face. "Monster? Germany he made a mistake. He did a bad thing that doesn't make him a bad person!" Italy insisted wanting nothing more than to justify his boyfriend's actions. If he could make it alright everything would go back to normal.

"But you can't possibly trust him after he did something like that!" Germany insisted giving the Italian nation a hard look. "Italy, you absolutely can _not_ be in an abusive relationship!"

Italy gaped. "He's not abusing me-"

Germany reached over and pulled up the Italian's sleeve, gently caressing the brunette's bruised skin. "That is abuse. Italy, you can't let him hurt you just because-" Germany paused frowning. "Wait, why is it you two were fighting? What was he upset about?" Germany demanded as Italy's gaze dropped to the floor.

"Ve, I'm still a little um, confused but… we were fighting about you and I." Italy stammered awkwardly his eyes hitting the floor. "He found out that you invited me over for…" Germany looked away briefly, his cheeks staining red. "Anyway," Italy plowed on, his own face heating up as the memory resurfaced. "I-I think Japan must have said something but he thought that-" Italy took a shuddering breath, trying to hold back the stinging sensation in his eyes. "You and I had an affair."

Germany's head shot up numbing shock clear on his face. "But, why?"

Italy proceeded to explain the night in as much detail as he could. The memory resurfacing before his eyes as he went on.

…

 _Italy tore through the night, running as fast as his nimble legs would allow him to go. It was dark but he knew where he was going well enough, his feet carried him to his desired destination almost automatically. His throat was constricting and his vision was still blurry from his tears but he ran on into the night._

 _Finally he arrived panting at the front door of Spain's house. Romano and he had always found a sort of refuge in the Spaniard's rather large house as Spain was always accommodating and kind. Antonio had a sort of soft spot for the Italian brothers, particularly for Romano. Romano and Spain were going to make each other very happy some day._

 _Feliciano panted lightly as he knocked lightly on the front door, silently hoping Romano would be asleep so he could have the night to think up an excuse that wasn't 'America and I had a huge fight and now I'm afraid to stay in my own home'. That wouldn't sit well with his brother on two very fine points. But his hopes weren't high as he heard high-pitched shrieking within the depths of the house. He recognized that to be Romano's complaining about a late visitor._

" _Who the fucking hell is calling at this time of night!" he screamed, his voice echoing deep inside Spain's house._

" _Don't worry Lovi, I'll get it!" Spain called cheerfully as footsteps began approaching the doorway._

" _Don't call me that you bastard!" Romano replied as the door swung open revealing a smiling Antonio._

" _Oh Veneciano! What a nice surprise!" Italy smiled despite himself. Spain had always been very kind to him._

" _Ve, can come in?" He asked breathlessly, his throat still scratchy from his run._

" _Eh? Of course little one!" Spain ruffled Italy's already windswept hair and gestured for him to enter. "Come on! Lovi's just a little grumpy…"_

" _Who the fuck is it? Why are you letting them in-? Feli?" Italy smiled sheepishly up at his older twin, hoping beyond hope he could just stay unquestioned._

" _Ve, Hello fratello!"_

 _Romano advanced on him, jabbing a finger in Italy's chest. "Don't you 'hello fratello' me! What the fuck are you doing here you bastard?" Lovino yelled, causing his brother to blanch shyly._

" _I-I"_

" _You've been crying." Whenever Romano said that, it was never a question. He always,_ always _knew when it came to his younger brother. He practically had a sixth sense when it came to whether or not his twin had been crying. "What happened? Don't you fucking lie to me! I can see it in your stupid face!"_

 _Italy took a step back and found that Spain was standing a few strides off to his side. "Huh? Have you been crying Feli? What's wrong?"_

 _Feliciano clamped his mouth shut, he didn't want to answer. Italy knew it would should rude to just stay without even giving up an explanation but he knew exactly how Roma would react if he ever heard America and he had been fighting. As much as Italy would love to talk to his big brother about it, he knew Romano would do something over protective and irrational. He didn't want Lovino getting hurt because of him._

" _Well? Tell us already asshole!" The Southern nation snapped, taking another intimidating step closer._

" _I- it's- ve. It's nothing you have to worry about." He settled on, cringing at the thin cover-up._

" _I don't give a shit! Tell me or I'll smack you over the head with a ladle!" Roma threatened._

" _Um, it's personal?"_

" _Don't give me that chickenshit! I don't give a fuck how personal it is I'm your brother. Tell. Me. now!"_

" _America and I had a fight!" Italy sobbed, feeling himself cave under pressure. "A-and he stormed out, and I'm pretty sure he's going to dump me in the morning!"_

 _Silence choked the entire room as Italy stood there wiping at his eyes, determined to stop crying in front of his brother._

 _Finally after what felt like an eternity, Spain broke the silence. "Wow," He whispered sympathetically. "I'm sorry amigo. That must be hard. You can stay here if you need-"_

" _What the fuck!?" Romano burst, causing Italy to squeak in fright and Spain to jump considerably. The angry Italian advanced on his brother, backing him up to the wall pointing a finger right at the younger brunette's chest. "That burger eating bastard is going to get a mouth full of lead when I find him!"_

 _Feliciano felt panic sear his heart and reached out to grab his brother desperately by the shirt. "Roma! Please don't hurt him!"_

" _What the fuck not?!"_

" _Because this is my mess and I'll deal with it!"_

" _That's a shit excuse I've helped clean up your messes before!"_

" _I can handle it!"_

" _You cannot!"_

" _Romano!" Italy screamed, moving so the two were eye to eye. "You can't hurt America! This is my life alright?" Romano's eyes swelled with shock at his usually timid brother's forceful proclamation. Lovino backed up as Feliciano advanced. "I won't have you messing with my life whenever you feel like it! You're never in my life anymore! You have no right-"_

 _A snap rebounded throughout the room as Romano's hand flew to Italy's cheek, tears were in both brother's eyes as Italy stumbled onto all fours, clutching his rapidly reddening cheek. His tears splattering onto the floor like broken glass. He looked up at his fuming older brother, shock and hurt shimmering in his big eyes. "You have no right to talk to me like that! I_ am _in your life you ungrateful-!"_

" _You-you're not." Italy sobbed, shifting so his was on his knees. His head was bowed. He was too afraid to look up. "Y-you're always here." His whispers were almost inaudible. "I never get to s-see you anymore."_

 _Roma held stubbornly to his infuriated expression though his eyes betrayed him. They reflected remorse and regret. "So what? You're still my brother, my opinion matters!"_

" _Not when it's my personal life!"_

" _Especially when it's your personal life!" Romano exploded. Italy shot up and looked Lovino dead in the eye showing a kind of fire Roma wasn't used to seeing in him. It was unnerving. "That burger loving bastard is almost as bad as the Potato bastard! You always pick the assholes!"_

" _What does Germany have to do with any of this? Him and I never got together!" Italy shrieked, causing Spain to wince in the background._

 _Romano scoffed. "Oh yeah right. You were practically doing everything else!"_

" _What does that mean?!"_

" _It means that you're a dumbass and so was he! You always pick wrong!"_

" _Well who would you have me pick?"_

 _Romano thought about this. Who would he pick? He continued to think and he came up with no one._

 _The northern country looked considerably ruffled as he got up off the floor and stared down his older brother. Finally romano replied. "It doesn't matter. They're both assholes and I forbid you from seeing either! That American is stupid and greedy and Germany is cruel and sadistic!"_

" _That's not true!"_

" _It is and you know it!"_

" _You don't even know them!"_

" _I don't have too! Their actions speak louder than their words!"_

 _Italy reeled back. "What is that suppose to mean?"_

" _Do I have to spell it out for you stupid?" Romano sneered. "the burger loving bastard stole nearly everything he has and the potato bastard followed that asshole dictator and praised the dirt he walked on!"_

" _You can't just judge people on things their boss make them do! That's unfair to hold onto those things for so long!"_

" _It's not unfair it's perfectly reasonable. And I was right, you wouldn't be here if it wasn't horrible now tell me what that bastard did!" Roma screamed_

" _No! America is not greedy and he didn't steal everything he has. He's payed for it time and time again!"_

" _That doesn't make it alright!" Romano took another step closer. "Obviously this douche is just with you for the sex!"_

" _Sex?!" Italy exploded, just as Spain grabbed Romano from behind and pulled him away from his younger half, snapping out of his daze at the uncomfortable outburst. "Romano I'm a virgin!"_

" _W-what?" Lovino spluttered, as he wrestled with the Spanish nation dragging him back. "Let me go bastard!"_

" _I think that's enough now Lovi." He whispered, obviously still in shock from seeing such an intense fight between the twins. "Maybe we should all just go to bed and sleep this off."_

" _Fuck that!" Romano screamed, fighting tooth and nail to get out of the Spaniard's grasp. "You either tell me what he did now or get the hell out of here!"_

 _Italy took a shuddering breath and stared his wildcat of a brother entrapped in Antonio's iron grip. "Then I guess I'm leaving." He hissed. Italy glanced at the clock for a moment, noting how late it was before he turned on his heel and left, ignoring his brother's yowls for him to get back in the house and explain._

 _Italy did not heed his hot-headed brother's calls and started running back the way he came, deciding to just go home and pray everything would turn out alright._

…

"After that I got home. I lied to America about where I went because I didn't want him to do anything to Romano for hitting me. We've already talk it out." He said hastily, as Germany's expression turned horrified. "I told him I lied about where I went and he flipped out even more. He thought I went over to your house." Italy sighed. "He just wouldn't listen. He called Spain and I kicked him out." He concluded, looking fearfully up at Germany, who was staring off into space, thinking. Finally Italy asked. "Germany are you okay?"

Germany looks toward the ground as Italy finished his story. Finally the younger country makes eye contact. "You had to deal with all that on your own?"

"Yes, it has been lonely the last few days." Responded the Italian country.

For awhile there was an awkward silence until Feli shifted his body on the couch and placed his head on Ludwig's shoulder. " L-Luddy, would you stay with me? Just a few days so I don't feel as lonely."

The German man looked to the Italian in surprise but agreed. "Of course I will." He murmured, sympathy swimming in his icy-blue eyes. "I'll be here for you, Feli."

Italy couldn't help the huge grin that lit up his face. Germany grunted as Italy enveloped him into a tight hug, squealing happily. "Thank you Ludwig! This will be super fun I promise!"

Germany wrapped his arms around Italy's middle, a serene smile adorning his features. "Yeah." He muttered. "It'll be fun."

…

Alfred sat on the edge of his bed staring out the window dismally. For the passed few days he had been doing every number of things to keep his mind off his actions. He had gone dirt biking, to the shoot rang, hunting, the movies and even decided to draw (Italy had been trying to teach him, he wasn't very good yet but he still practiced). But nothing could keep his thoughts at bay for too long.

The image of Italy's frightened and tear-stained face, shaking and bruised on the ground would not shake from his memory. Pain stabbed his heart everytime he remembered he hadn't been the hero to Italy, he had been the bad guy. It ate away at his sanity, so much so that he had to call Canada nearly twice everyday. His brother never failed to cheer him up.

His foot began to tap rapidly on the floor, the sound resounding throughout the room. He sighed, it was too quiet, it was always too quiet. He just wanted to be back with Italy, but if he needed some time away, he could give him that. It was the least he could do for him. But America was starting to resent this room. He had rented a hotel room in Italy, having nowhere else to go.

There wasn't anything wrong with the place, but staying alone in here was driving him insane. He hated the silence, the four walls seemed to be judging him. He felt like he was being mocked by everything around him. It was unbearable.

But he forced himself not to leave, to endure knowing Italy wanted some time apart. It broke his heart, but he hoped it was helping at least. Maybe it would all be worth it in the end.

It had now been five days since America has seen Italy. He couldn't take it anymore! Mathew's rule was stupid, he was going to see Feliciano!

 **(AN):**

 **Hello! Sincerest apologies for not updating on Saturday like I usually would, I was pretty busy that day. This piece is poorly edited so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, this is old and that's totally my bad.**

 **Thank you so much for the reads and reviews! Love you stay awesome!**


	6. Chapter 6

_America_

was all Italy could think about the last few days. But ever since Germany had been with him Italy had managed to forget, if only for a little while. Italy was beyond grateful for his best friend, he couldn't imagine how he would have managed without him.

"Good morning Germany!" Italy sang as the Germanic nation slowly made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen where Italy was cooking breakfast. "How did you sleep?"

Germany just shrugged, rubbing one of his eyes blearily as he sat down. "Alright I suppose. I'm just a little tired."

"Coffee?"

"Ja, Please."

Italy smiled and complied, reaching up and grabbing Germany a cup. Today, he had been careful about covering up his bruises with make-up. Italy hated the way it felt on his arms, but if it made Germany and everyone else more comfortable (like he thought it would) he would do it. The Italian nation noted that Germany's icy eyes wandered to his arms. He frowned when his eyes fell on the natural colored skin.

Feliciano's face burned as Ludwig continued to watch him. The silence rapidly became awkward as Germany's eyes followed Italy's figure until he finally stopped at the table, staring shamelessly at the Italian. "Thank you. Are you ok?"

"U-uh yes." Italy stuttered, rubbing his wrist lightly with his finger. "I just don't like showing my wounds. I think it's awkward."

"You covered them up?" He stated, his still bleary eyes blinked rapidly, surprise registering within their depths. "Why?"

Italy shift uncomfortably before he turned back to the eggs he had been cooking, remaining silent for as long as he dared. "I-I don't feel comfortable showing bruises or wounds in front of people. So I covered them up." Italy felt himself begin to shake, hoping Germany wouldn't be mad.

But the German stayed silent, he was staring out the window with a far away expression masking his face. Italy winced at the new found silence but did nothing to stifle it.

Finally Italy placed a plate of eggs in front of his German friend, a small smile gracing his face. "G-Germany?"

The blond looked up from his food, his eyes following Italy as he sat down beside him, leaning forward with hopeful excitement in his warm eyes. "Yes Italy?"

"It's really nice out, can we go for a picnic? Please, please!" Feliciano begged reaching forward and grabbing Germany's hand, his eyes pleading. "I'll make the food! It'll be fun!"

Germany just blinked, his gaze falling on their entwined fingers for a moment before he met Italy's excited eyes again. "Um, sure. That sounds alright." Germany said slowly. Italy squealed happily and threw his arms around Germany's shoulders.

"Yay! Oh! I'll make pasta, and pizza and Germany loves potatoes, right Germany? This is going to be super fun!"

...

Germany sighed heavily as he sat in the living room pretending to be reading as his thoughts swam through his head.

Him and Italy have spent the last few days watching movies, walks in parks, cooking, and painting (even though Germany was terrible at it). It felt like old times, minus the need for training, the formal work, meetings and everything in between. It was just two friends and even if he he wouldn't ever admit it to anyone these thoughts put a serene smile on Germany's face.

Italy saw Germany smiling he went to sit next Ludwig on the couch. "Luddy what are you smiling about?" The Italian cocked his head to the side while he gazed up at the German nation.

Germany gave a low chuckle, "Nothing, Feli." Images of him holding Italy in a sun-bathed field while Italy sat in his lap, sketched the landscape absent mindedly kept entering the Germanic nation's head. Italy would lean against Germany's chest and tilt his head back, planting a kiss on his cheek and Germany would run his fingers through Feliciano's soft, auburn hair.

The fantasy shattered when Italy called. "Ok! I'm almost finished making the food. Is there anything else you want me to bring?"

"Just don't forget to bring some sunscreen." Germany said sternly. Italy nodded and headed back to the kitchen. Ludwig glanced back out the window, his fantasies returning to his mind. The blond wondered if that's what it would be like to date Italy. If he would spend his days with the Italian nation adoring him the way Italy had done America.

The thought of the brunette staying with America set Germany's blood aflame. The younger nation would never appreciate Feli the way he did. That idiot would fill his Italy with his stupid ideals, and when (if) he got back, he would probably prevent Germany from seeing Italy. Things would never be the way Germany wanted while Italy stayed with America. He throughly resented Alfred for that.

Germany's eyes narrowed as a picture of America forcefully grabbing Italy's fragile wrists entered his mind. He saw the blond nation pinning Italy to the wall and screaming at him for something that wasn't his fault, for something that had never even happened. How could Italy still want to be with that jerk? His skin crawled at the idea of America back in Feli's life. He was going to ruin everything.

"All done!" Italy's voice wafted into the living room, a wicker basket and blanket in his arms. "Come on, there's a field about a mile back. There's even a path there and everything!" The Italian bounded into the room, placed the load in his arms on the ground and wrapped his arms around Germany's large bicep. "C'mon follow me!"

Germany blinked calmly as Italy tugged excitedly on his arm. He smiled at the impatient look on the brunette's face. "Did you forget anything?"

Italy shook his head rapidly. "No, no! I got the sunscreen, blanket, food-"

"Did you remember an umbrella?" He asked, his tone patient.

"But it's sunny out!" Italy whined. "Why do we need an umbrella?"

"It might rain. You never know." Germany teased. Italy huffed and Germany let the older country tug him to his feet.

"Please! C'mon Luddy!" Italy begged, removing his arms from around the German's arm to take his hands in his own. Just as Germany was about to return Italy's grip on his small, thin fingers, Italy gasped. "Oh! I did forget something!"

Germany rolled his eyes good-naturedly as Italy zoomed out of the room. Germany walked over to the abandoned basket and blanket, tucking the blanket underneath his arm and placed the handle on his forearm just as Italy re-entered the room. Germany looked up and saw Italy had a sketchpad, some pencils and a sharpener. "Sorry, it's been awhile since I've had the chance to draw. We've been painting but I really do love drawing."

Germany just nodded and shifted the basket onto his other arm, offering it for Italy to take. The little country beamed and hugged his biceps, pressing his face into Germany's well muscled arm. Germany smiled, a familiar tingling feeling in his stomach. It was something only Feliciano could initiate in him.

Ludwig let Feliciano lead him out the back door and out the gate. Germany looked around as they walked down an almost nonexistent path. It really was beautiful, the grass was long and lush, and there were wildflowers growing all about with the occasional small tree shading the area. "This is lovely."

Italy hummed his ascent as he looked about the place, his hair shimmering in the bright sunlight. "I love it out here."

"You sure this isn't private property?" Germany asked, causing Italy to chuckle.

"Trust me, ok?" He said softly, looking Germany in the eyes. "I know what I'm doing."

"Of course." Germany dipped his head towards Italy a moment. "It's beautiful out here." He repeated.

Italy smiled. "It really is. During the spring time a lot of these trees bloom. It never lasts long, but I love it." Italy gushed.

Germany and Italy chatted on happily until they finally arrived at a huge oak tree. It's limbs extended far out and it's bushy leaves providing enough shade for the two of them to sit beneath it with their blankets. "Is this where we're eating?"

Italy nodded happily and pulled Germany underneath the tree. The blond was grateful to be out of the heat of the day. He burned easily and found he was already starting to sweat slightly in the heat.

It ended up being a lot like his little daydream earlier. Italy was pressed up against him, both of them sitting on a red blanket. He was sketching the scenery about them, a concentrated look in his brown eyes. The difference was Italy wasn't sitting in his lap but sat close beside him. And Italy made no move to kiss him, nor did Germany allow himself to be tempted to stroke his shimmering auburn hair.

"Hey Germany?" Italy quipped, his concentration still on is drawing.

"Hm?" He grunted, leaning heavily against the steady oak trunk.

"I missed you."

Germany's mouth twitched up into a small smile. Usually a rare occurrence but today it seemed to be happening a lot. "Ja, I missed you too."

"I'm sorry for leaving the Axis…" The brunette went on, his soft pencil strokes halting as his head drooped. "I didn't want to but…"

"It's alright." Germany grunted. His smile fading at the mention of Italy's leave. If it hadn't happened, maybe Italy would never have gotten with America. But he knew full well why it really had been Italy's only option at that point. He didn't resent that action in particular at least. "It's my fault really. I shouldn't have…"

Feliciano shook his head vigorously, his head finally lifting to stare into the blond's icy blue eyes. "Don't say that! It wasn't your fault."

Germany took a deep breath and decided to cut this little conversation short. "Would you like to have lunch now? It's getting to be about that time."

Italy's expression brighten, he put his sketchbook carefully down next to him and bounded over to the basket.

Germany glanced down at the momentarily abandoned book. It was a very underdeveloped picture of the scenery about them, he could easily identify everything on the paper laid out like a map. It was a rather endearing quality of Italy's.

"What are you doing Germany?"

The blond jumped a little as Italy rested his chin on his shoulder, gazing bright eyed down at his sketchpad.

"Urm, j-just looking." He mumbled. "Sorry."

Italy hummed happily and exclaimed happily. "That's ok Germany! How does it look so far?"

"Very nice Italy." Germany felt his face heat up as Italy's breath brushed passed his pale cheek. His body was very warm…

"Grazie! Germany doesn't usually give me compliments!" Italy flung his arms around Germany's neck from behind, giving him a brief squeeze before retreating back towards the basket and leaving the blond flustered. "Would you like bow ties or angel hair?"

"Hmm?" He hummed distractedly, gazing down at the soft pencil marks Italy left on the paper, still admiring the small details within the piece.

"With your pasta silly! I made bow ties and angel hair."

Germany frowned in concentration, he wasn't quite sure… "Urm, whatever you're having I suppose."

"Ok!" He was relieved Italy seemed fairly satisfied with that answer as he slowly began loading two plates up with food, the smell made his mouth water as he watched the small nation flitter about the food with practiced ease.

"Italy…" The younger nation looked up with bright brown eyes. "Do you come out here often?"

The brunette nodded happily, handing him a heavily ladened plate and fork. "Oh si, I come out here and play football with my fratello. Oh!" He squeaked, jumping a little. "I forgot a football! I'm so sorry Germany…"

"Nein, it's alright Italy." Germany assured. "It doesn't matter."

"Um, Germany?"

"Ja?"

"You don't have to call me that." The little brunette smiled softly up at him. Germany frowned, confused. "It seems too formal, we're friends. Call me Feli."

"Urm, sure, Feli." Germany let another small smile slip, and gazed down at his food.

"Yay!" Germany felt Italy's slim arms wrap around his shoulder from the side. Germany turned just as Italy planted a lingering kiss on the side of his mouth. "Thank you Luddy!"

He felt his face heat and his stomach flutter uncontrollably at the contact. He clenched his fists, trying desperately to keep himself under control as Italy pulled away and dug into his bow ties.

The blond rolled his eyes as Italy dribbled sauce over his chin. He waited until the little country had wolfed down the rest of his food before he spoke up casually. "Feli, clean up your face. You have sauce on your chin." He pointed at the corresponding area on his own chin.

"What? Where?" He blindly wiped at his chin and completely missed.

Germany rolled his icy blue eyes and leaned forward. "Here, let me." He grabbed a napkin from the basket and pulled Italy forward by the waist. Italy squeaked as he slowly wiped the red sauce from his chin. Italy squirmed as he licked the napkin and scrubbed his face completely clean like he would a little kid.

"Mmm." Italy whined, rubbed at his chin vigorously. "Grazie." He mumbled. Sounding a little indignant. He was pouting adorably and crossed his arms over his chest. It made Germany chuckle.

"What are you grumbling about? You have to look respectable in public." He claimed, though he let another small smile slip. Feliciano just huffed and shot him a coy smile.

"Grazie Germany." The Italian put his plate down and crawled over Germany's lap and back towards his sketchbook. Ludwig smiled softly as Italy grabbed his sketchbook, settling down with his stomach pressing against Germany's legs.

He remained silent as Feliciano began sketching the landscape once more.

 **(An):**

 **I'm SORRY it's so short! I know I know but it was either this or I had to make it excruciatingly long. Granted the next chapter might be just that, I haven't decided how I'm going to break these last few chapters up yet but I'll get it sorted by next week.**

 **Yay for Germany Italy fluff! I suck at fluff so I hope this was ok.**

 **Thank you for all the reads and reviews! I love you all!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"That was so much fun Germany!" Italy giggled merrily as they walked back to the house. The sun was setting behind them, the light rapidly fading from the day.

"Ja, I suppose is was." The German replied. He glanced over at the smaller nation beside him. He was a little more than pleased at how the day had turned out.

"You had fun?" Germany nodded. "Yay! I'm so happy you're happy!" Feli squeaked, latching onto his arm as they approached the house.

Germany sighed happily as they entered the air conditioned house, happy to finally get out of the stifling weather.

Italy walked passed him and towards the kitchen calling as he went. "Would you like something to drink Luddy?"

"Yes, danke." Germany replied. plopping down on the couch and leaning against the soft cushions.

Everything was quiet.

It didn't last.

Germany's head turned towards the sounds of a sudden crash was heard from the kitchen. He leaped to his feet and ran into the kitchen, prepared for anything except for what he found.

The blond made a sharp halt just in the doorway. Italy was leaning up against the kitchen counter. The shattered glass on the floor indicated that the Italian must have dropped it onto the floor. Ludwig would have reprimanded him for the mess, but standing in the very center of the room was America. The other nation's blue eyes found his quickly, looking just as shocked as he was.

Italy's head flew in his direction his brown eyes widening with horror. America's eyes narrowed at his presence, a resolution setting in his face.

"I knew it." He muttered, shooting a disgusted look at Italy. "I knew it all this time… it was never about me was it?"

Italy's hands flew to his mouth and shook his head vigorously, he seemed horrified beyond words.

"Don't lie!" The American screamed, and Germany's own patience snapped in two.

"What?" He stepped into the room and up to American, severing his access to the brunette. "Are you going to hit him? Beat him if he can't answer?"

America's face flushed red with anger, his blue eyes locking with Ludwig's own. "This is none of your business, why don't you just stay out of it?"

"I'm not going to willingly put my best friend in danger." He crossed his arms across his broad chest. "You are no longer a nation I can trust."

"Oh was I ever?" America sneered, but his gaze softened when he looked passed Germany at Italy's fearful stance and distrusting eyes. His voice lowered considerably when he addressed the Italian. "I just want to talk. I promise…"

Germany's eyes followed America's gaze. The two were sharing a look that almost made him want to step aside and let them talk it out. But one glance at the smaller nation's wrists made him stand rigid. They were nearly healed, the flesh had gone from dark purple to a pale yellow. It was enough to keep him rooted to the spot.

"I think that option when out of the door when you did." America scowled up at Germany.

It surprised him when he exhaled and said softly. "Alright, I understand. I'm sorry I hurt you Italy. If you don't trust me Germany, then would you stay here? If it'll make Italy feel safer…"

Italy's resolve already looked broken, he was about to cave. Germany grunted. He knew he couldn't have prevented this for long. He felt his heart squeeze painfully, Italy was about to fall back into America's embrace and would leave him alone again.

He stepped aside, resigning himself to a bystander, a friend. Just a friend.

At once the younger nation stepped forward and approached Italy, reaching out towards him a moment before his arm dropped again. Germany backed into the corner of the kitchen. He knew his presence was making this much more awkward than it needed to be. But just a friend or not he was going to make sure Italy was safe.

Italy spoke first. "Where have you been?"

America shrugged. "Just a cheap hotel about half an hour from here…"

"Were you ok?"

"Yeah… it was fine."

The silence stretched into eternity as Germany stood there, his irritation growing. Could they just get on with it?

"...I guess I'll start." America murmured, once again reaching out for Italy who shied away from his touch. But the blond laid his hand on Feliciano's shoulder anyway, Italy twitched but did nothing to stop him.

"I um… I'm so sorry for distrusting you the way I did, for yelling and for running off…" His eyes trailed to the Italian's wrists. The brunette's eyes flickered and he crossed his arms, though it looked more like he was hugging himself.

"But I can't apologize enough for hurting you. I don't think anything I could do would ever make up for it and I'm so sorry. I fractured your trust. That's something I can never earn back fully." His blue gaze hit the floor, he looked disheartened. Probably from the Italian's lack of response. "I guess all I can do is beg for forgiveness…"

"I can't take this anymore!" Italy sobbed, surprising both men as he burst into tears and buried his face in his hands. "I-I'm sorry…"

America looked bewildered. "Huh? But Italy, you have nothing to apologize for-"

"Yes I do! I-" And it hit Germany, that look… he was about to spill. And he knew what...

"Italy don't." He implored. He hated America, but he wanted Italy to be happy more than anything else. America made him happy. And Italy made it clear there was nothing between them anymore.

"What?" Alfred gabbed. "What's going on?"

"We kissed!" Italy blurted, flinching away from America as he said it. "I'm so sorry!"

"Yeah I know. We talked about this remember?" The American murmured comfortingly, sending Ludwig a nasty glare. "Not cool…"

"No, I mean we kissed a few days ago... " Italy sobbed, tears dripping down his cheeks. "And it was mutual…"

Germany felt panic rise in his chest, but not because of the now crazed glare America was giving him. Or the way the blond retracted his hand from Italy as though it had been burned. It was because of Italy's crying face, his desperately apologetic tone. Germany couldn't stand in Italy's way of happiness. Not over something so selfish of him.

"You don't have to lie, Italy." Germany said firmly, gaining both nation's full attention. "I'm sorry I did that to you again, but you don't have to lie for my sake."

"W-what?" The brunette whispered, looking incredulously up at Germany.

"I… don't think I'm following." Alfred mumbled. _Typical America._ Germany thought bitterly.

"I kissed Italy, again. He didn't kiss me." Italy shot him a panicked look, shaking his head insistently from side to side. "He was afraid you would try and hurt me, so he's lying about it now. But there is no need." He held up a hand as Italy began protesting, tears in his brown eyes. "I appreciate it Italy, but I have to own up to what I did."

Italy grabbed America's sleeve imploring the American to listen. "That's not what happened!" Alfred looked torn, as though afraid of choosing a side.

"I-I-"

"Italy that's enough! You don't have to protect me!" It hurt, it really hurt to watch as Italy protested, begged, denied Germany's words to no avail. "I'm sorry I did that America." Germany growled. Though to be honest he didn't regret it for one second. "It was wrong of me to kiss a man who was with someone. I caught Italy in a vulnerable moment. He didn't push me away, but he didn't encourage me. It was completely selfish of me to take advantage of him. That's why I've been here, to try and make it up to him."

"Germany!" Italy's cries went unheard.

"I'm sorry America." Germany repeated, feeling sick for ignoring his best friend's desperate pleas. America was glaring directly into his icy blue eyes. Germany squared his shoulders and said confidently. "It won't ever happen again. I promise."

"You're damn right it won't!" America stepped in front of the brunette. "Because I'm not letting you near him again! I'm sick of this!"

"America wait!" Italy grabbed his shoulder but the blond put a hand on the younger nation's chest. "I'm telling you it wasn't Germany's fault!"

America wheeled around on Italy, who cowered under his blue gaze. "I… Italy I want to believe you…" He murmured. He turned and placed both hands on the Italian's shoulders. "But I'm not just going to stand down and ignore this. Not a second time."

Germany's hands flew into up defense as America approached and jabbed a finger in his direction. "Stay the hell away from my boyfriend!"

The Germanic nation's spine prickled with anger, but he did nothing but nod and say simply. "I understand."

America looked perplexed, but regained his composure and pointed at the door. "Get the hell out of here."

"Nein, not until this fight is over. Wouldn't want you hurting Italy again." He snarled, unable to help himself.

"Right now I don't give a shit. There's the exit. Get the fuck out!"

"Well you might not give a shit about Italy's safety, but I do." He snapped. "I'll leave when you're done."

"Just stop it both of you!" Italy burst, stepping between the two blond's with both his arms outstretched towards either country. "Please. That's enough."

Germany nodded apologetically and America murmured a hurried. "Sorry..."

Italy took a deep breath and said. "Germany, can you please leave."

"W-what? But Italy-!"

"Please let us have this fight." He murmured.

"I'm not leaving you alone." Ludwig insisted, unwavering in his decision.

"Fine, just stand there and please don't say anything." The Germanic nation nodded and retreated back to the corner of the kitchen. Italy turned to America. "And you." The younger gulped. "Let's fight."

America nodded fearfully, but the Italian's courage didn't last long. His arms began shaking again and he backed a step away from the American nation. His eyes widened up at the American, his stance submissive. "Um, alright." Alfred muttered, crossing his arms across his chest. "What the hell is Germany doing here? I thought I made it clear that I didn't want you alone with him."

"H-he came to apologize for… inviting me over." The brunette look up at America with a nervous expression. "You know."

"So you two could fuck?" The American snarled.

"I asked him over to talk." Germany interrupted. "Not to, as you so delicately put it, fuck."

"Stay out of this!" America screamed, turning back to a still cowering Italy. "So, then what."

"He came in, I offered him coffee, and then we kissed." He squeaked.

"Italy-" Germany began.

"That's what happened!" The Italian insisted.

"Enough!" America shouted. "Whatever the case I can't believe you would do that to me!"

"I didn't mean for it to happen!"

"That's why I asked you not to hang around him! Why won't you listen to me?"

"I-I don't know!" He burst, pressing the heel of his hand into his cheek as tears poured from his brown eyes.

"How long has he been here?"

Italy crossed his arms. "Four days."

"Why?" The blond snarled.

"I didn't want to be alone…"

The American snorted. "Yeah? Did you sleep in the same bed?"

"He slept in the guest bedroom!" Italy burst, appalled.

America snarled. "Really? And were you there with him?"

"Why are you doing this?" Italy sobbed, wiping at his face as he looked America in the eye. "Nothing else happened!"

"How do I know that? How will I ever know that if you don't stay away from him!"

"Why won't you just trust me!?" Italy screamed, causing the Germanic nation to blanch from where he stood. This argument was becoming increasingly uncomfortable for the German. "You always do this! You overreact over things that didn't even happen because you don't trust me!"

"Of course I trust you!" The American insisted, but Germany could see the fear in his eyes.

"The whole reason this fight began was because you wouldn't just believe me to begin with! If you had just listened to me-!"

"That is not where this argument began!" Alfred insisted, leaning down towards Italy with shaking fists. "This is all his fault!" He pointed an accusing finger at the German nation.

"No!" Italy yelled, once again surprising Ludwig by his audacity. "You are not pinning this on him! This isn't his fault!"

"Everything was going fine until he came knocking on our door again!"

"He's not the source for our problems!" Italy gave Ludwig a sympathetic glance, which only made the blond's discomfort double. He hadn't expected this fight to turn on him and he was unprepared. He was starting to feel increasingly regretful for having interrupted the first time, cursing his short temper.

"Yes he is! If you had only stayed away from none of this would have happened!"

Italy's eyes snapped back to America and held out his wrist accusingly. "This was _not_ Germany's fault!" Alfred's eyes hit the floor, his face reddening with shame. "He's not the reason I don't feel safe around you anymore." Feliciano's voice dropped to more of a hushed tone. "How do I know this wouldn't have ever happened? How do I know it's not going to happen again?"

"Because I love you!" America yelled. Germany reeled back, gaping at the younger nation. He _loved_ Italy? Had he just confessed his love in the middle of a fight in front of _him_? What was he thinking?

Germany looked at Italy, and his face grew even more incredulous at the atonic look on the Italian's face. Was he not surprised?

"I love you too." Germany felt pain pierce his heart. They were in love? He didn't know… Had he caused all this heartbreak? How could he have done this? "But you hurt me. You love me and you still hurt me." America's head drooped, he looked like a kicked puppy. "Why would you do that?" Italy whined.

"I-I don't know. I was so angry, I thought you had cheated on me…"

"That doesn't give you the right to hurt people." Italy retorted softly.

"I know it doesn't and I can't apologize enough for it." America's expression turned pleading. "What can I do to make up for it?"

Italy sighed, placing a hand over his face. "I don't know. You could start by not hating my best friend."

"He kissed my boyfriend! Twice! That's reason enough to dislike someone!" Germany huffed. I mean, he was right here. "Surely you can understand that." The American insisted.

"America." Italy sighed, removing his hand from his face. "Friendship is important. When you've been a nation as long as I have you understand that friends can come and go and it's not something that I throw away so easily."

"I'm not the oldest nation out there," America began, pointing a finger at the Italian's chest. "And I understand how you feel about the people in your life but I'm not comfortable with you and Germany."

Italy gripped his hair stressfully. "You're doing it again."

"It's not you that I don't trust it's him." Germany glared daggers at the American country with blazing cerulean eyes. He could feel rage begin to boil his blood, every word the American nation uttered only seemed to fuel the fire. "He can't seem to keep his paws to himself."

"Shut it swine." Germany snarled, unable to keep himself under restraint. Both nations turned to him again. "Don't sit there and make fun of me like that, as if I'm not even here."

"Oh shut up!" Alfred yelled. "Why are you even here? Get the hell out!"

"I thought I made myself clear!" Germany barked. "You are not hurting Italy again. I can't believe he's even talking to you right now."

"Germany please-" The Italian began, but America interrupted him.

"This doesn't concern you! If Italy was afraid, he wouldn't be talking to me right now."

"Please stop it!" Italy screamed. "Just stop. The people in my life are important America! I don't stop you from hanging out with England."

"But England is trustworthy!"

"Trustworthy?! America, I had to declare war on England for unification, so I could be with my own brother! He went to war with Spain, one of my oldest friends. He's told me stories…" Italy paused for just a moment before returning to the argument. "I'm afraid of him!" The Italian declared.

America snorted. "That's not new. You're afraid of every other country."

"This is personal." Italy growled. "But I try not to hold that against him because you guys are such good friends."

"Yes!" The blond shouted. "Just friends! Friends that don't kiss or have little sleepovers! We're platonic!"

"And even so, if I asked you to stop hanging out with him because I'm uncomfortable with him, would you?"

"That's completely different!" The blond shouted. "I can't believe you don't get that!"

"I do get that!" The brunette replied. "I understand why you're upset alright!"

"So why won't you just listen to me?!" Alfred roared.

The brunette's courage faltered under America's spiteful glare. Germany was honestly surprised the Italian had that much steam to blow off. But he supposed letting a wound fester for a few days was never very good.

"B-because I don't want to lose anyone again…"

"Well," America snarled. "You're about to lose me."

Once the words were uttered it was immediately evident that Alfred regretted saying them. Feliciano's eyes swelled with anguish and his face mirrored distress. America took two mortified steps back, as if he was just as shocked by his words as anyone else.

Germany's own blazing anger was melting once again into discomfort as the room fell completely silent. He wanted to leave, but each time America made any sort of wild movement or gesture, his breakneck extinct was to leap forward and drag the American away from Italy, compelling him to stay. But the turn this argument had just taken was nothing short of dangerously devastating.

Germany's icy eyes widened with shock when Feliciano's face contorted (he looked like he was about to cry) and the American opened his arms for Feliciano, who ran straight into them and sobbed into the American nation's chest.

"...is this just, not working anymore?" America murmured.

"I-I don't want to break up with you." Italy bawled. "I don't want you to go."

"Maybe it would be for the best."

Germany's heart broke for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

"But why?" Italy looked up from the American's chest, tears still streaming down his face.

"If we can't work through this we're only going to end up hurting each other." Alfred reasoned.

"But we can work around this." The Italian insisted.

Germany couldn't stand it, he couldn't hold his tongue, so he spoke up once again. "Wait." Both nation's once again turned towards the German, half of Italy's face still hidden from view. "I'll stay away from Italy." At once the brunette opened his mouth to protest but Germany put up a hand to stop him. "No it's alright." He turned his gaze to America, whose grip tighten protectively around Feliciano. "I respect your relationship and I understand why you are uncomfortable. Italy and I are great friends, but this relationship means more-" He stopped before his voice could break, clearing this throat before he went on. "to him then you know. I'll back down."

America's face was comically contorted into a completely bewildered expression. He didn't dare look at Italy, who was no doubt heartbroken by his bold proclamation.

"Wow." Alfred muttered. "Thanks bro. That means a lot."

Germany felt exasperation rise in his chest. Could he not just take this in stride instead of acting like a complete airhead? "I'm not doing this for you." His icy eyes found Feli's.

The brunette was staring at him with a sickening mixture of betrayal and hurt. He clutched at America with a renewed force when their eyes met. That expression stabbed holes in the German's heart. It seemed almost wrong, like that look just didn't fit his usually cheery face. It haunted him, forever then staining his memory of the happy little Italian nation.

"Maybe it's a good thing you're leaving," The Italian murmured, and for a moment Germany relaxed, convinced Feliciano had understood. He dismissed his initial expression, boiling it down to the head of the moment and for just a second, everything seemed alright.

Slowly the older nation let go of America and turned towards him, whispering through what he realized were tear glazed eyes. "Now that I know just how much I really meant to you."

The German reeled back as Italy pushed passed him, shaking his head as he headed upstairs towards his room. "Wait-" Germany reached out futilely for the brunette his pulse pounding in his ears as he watched the Italian nation slip out of sight. The spite and contempt held in his voice were heartbreaking.

The German sighed and turned towards America, a serious look eclipsing his pained face. "America," said nation straightened, his expression genuinely fearful. The German took a step closer, pointing a finger threateningly in his direction. "If you love Italy, _really_ love him, then you better fucking cherish him the way I would have." His icy eyes grew frigid. "You better respect him, and protect him. You better appreciate and pay attention to him and so help me if you break his heart or hurt him again," His lip curled back into a snarl and he leaned over the terrified American. "I _will_ kill you."

And he meant it.

Alfred nodded hurriedly, regaining his composure. "Of course."

"A word of advice." Germany said, not unkindly. "If you love something," He closed his eyes, pain washing over him in white-hot waves. Images of Italy flashed before his vision. His smile, the way his eyes lit up whenever Germany praised him. What the sunlight did to his auburn hair, the concentrated look on his face when he was engrossed in the construction of a piece of artwork. The way he pressed up against his chest every time they hugged. He exhaled quietly, opening his eyes with a horribly despondent expression marring his features, his tone like-wise. "Don't let it go, not for a single moment."

America dipped his head gratefully and murmured softly. "Thank you. I won't forget this."

Germany nodded his understanding. The American country slipped passed him towards the room Feliciano now occupied.…

"Feli?" America called softly. He tentatively opened the Italian nation's door. "Are you ok?"

The brunette had his legs pull up against his chest with his face buried in his knees. His whole body shook with sobs and immediately America was at his side. The blond pulled Italy flush against his side, gently coaxing him into his arms.

The American nation placed one hand at the back of Feli's neck and stroked his back with the other, silently happy to finally have the little country back in his arms; though he wished it were under happier circumstances.

"Why are you so upset baby?" America cooed, lightly kissing his auburn hair. "Talk to me."

The older nation held on tighter, only reinforcing America's grip on his small frame. Italy whimpered and pulled back, Alfred's arms still encircling his shoulders.

"Ve, I th-think I should have told you about this… but a long time ago, I fell in love." America's hand ceased its strokes along the brunette's back, confusion halting his actions.

"Um, with Germany right?"

Italy shook his head. "No this was before Germany. I was very young and it was with a boy named the _Holy Roman Empire_."

There was something strange about how he uttered that name.

"Oh." America murmured, not sure exactly what to say or do.

Italy took a deep breath. His head tilted down, his auburn bangs veiling his chocolate eyes and hiding his expression. Alfred blinked his cerulean eyes, nervousness and awkward evident from his poise and choice action.

"Ve, I loved him so much…" America felt nerves crawl at the back of his neck. He wasn't the best at consoling, and hearing about a past love wasn't exactly comfortable material.

"He was scary at first. He'd chase me around and demand that I join him. I never really gave him the time of day. He would follow me around, but I never really minded. I didn't realize we would never work until much later when he asked me to join in his conquests. I couldn't do it… I cared too much for him to do something like that."

"But…" The blond blinked befuddled by that logic. "If you joined his empire, then you two could have been together forever, right?"

Feli shook his head. "No, I had just-" Italy's hand flew to his mouth, and Alfred realized with a start that he was fending off tears. "I just lost Grandpa Rome because he was too big. He couldn't handle it," He shook his head for emphasis, his voice beginning to waver. "N-no one could… I didn't want him to build himself up, and then knock himself down. I couldn't-"

America once again pulled the older nation flush against his chest, holding the weeping nation close and murmuring softly. "It's ok, it's ok."

"But he was so kind to me." Italy shivered and latched onto the blond in a desperate embrace. "I was a maid at Mr. Austria's house, so I had to clean up and sometimes I was s-stepped on like a little bug. And sometimes I wasn't fed." America's grip intensified on Italy. He pressed a chaste kiss to Feliciano's forehead, his heart aching to comfort him, though he knew interrupting wasn't the best idea at this point.

"But Holy Rome was so nice. He gave me food when I wasn't given it by Mr. Austria. He was so shy and liked to watch me sweep sometimes." Italy sensed the American's discomfort and added reassuringly. "Living with Mr. Austria wasn't all bad. When I got my work done, sometimes he would let me sit with him while he played the most beautiful music on his piano. And sometimes he would even give me a break from chores so I could paint.

"For a while, everything was perfect." Italy's eyes brightened, his voice quieted. It was almost as if he had forgotten he was talking to anyone at all. "Holy Rome and I were together, Austria and Hungary were happy," The Italian nuzzled Alfred's chest, his eyes wondering about the room, looking at nothing in particular. "but then, everything started to change. Holy Rome had to leave for war and left me behind with nothing but a kiss and a promise to return."

Something clicked in Alfred's mind.

Alfred didn't know what to say, though Italy seemed to have given him a rather short version of the story, his actions made it painfully evident just how much the Holy Roman Empire had affected him.

"He never came home."

America nuzzled the top of Italy's head, holding him tight and petting his hair softly. "Italy-"

"And I know that what I'm going to say next sounds crazy but, for a while I decided I would never love anyone ever again. How could I? I made a promise that I didn't want to let go of..." Alfred shut his mouth, feeling embarrassed for having interrupted at all.

He rested his cheek against Italy's head as the silence stretched he nudged him gently slowly prompting him to continue. The Italian seemed to snap out of a daze and went on in an even more hushed tone. "Then, after what felt like forever, I met Germany." Italy leaned into his embrace once more and sighed, he sounded exhausted. "And he was so much like him, though he wanted me gone and didn't want me around at first. I won't say much more than: he made me believe that everything was going to be ok again. He reminded me what it was like to love again…"

Alfred wanted to comfort Feliciano to the best of his ability, but this topic was so uncomfortable; how was he suppose to react to all this?

"I don't want to pain you with the details, but that's why he's so special to me. He didn't just open up that option, he made me want to risk everything and make friends again. It's hard to explain, but everything just sort of, burst back into color when Germany entered my life, and I've always wanted to repay him for that.

"I know that was a lot to take in, I'm sorry that didn't come out sooner. I probably should've talked about it I just-" Italy looked up at America, his eyes strangely blank. "I-it's hard…"

"It's alright Feli." America murmured. "That was something huge you just told me and I understand if you want a few minutes to yourself…"

"I-I don't want to be left alone again." despite his shaky speech tears were no longer threatening to fall from Italy's usually expressive eyes. It was strange seeing him like that.

It was clear to America how much Germany meant to Italy. Now he understood why his betrayal must've hurt so much. Why it took so long to get over him…

He was still waiting.

"You really loved him, didn't you?" America whispered, pain seizing his heart once more.

Italy nodded. "I did." He looked up. "But I want to be with you now, it took a very special person to capture my heart." He smiled. "You're that person."

But guilt was weighing him down and making him feel almost as though he had stolen something precious, ruined the perfect end to the perfect lovestory. That atop all the their other problems were starting to pile up...

"You… you really care about Germany, don't you?" Alfred sighed.

Feli nodded. "Si. But I would do anything for you." Feliciano sighed, his smile still in place. "If giving up Germany is what I have to do, I'll do it."

America paused, took a deep breath and said, though it pained him greatly. "You don't have to stop seeing Germany."

The Italian looked up at him with equal parts shock and gratitude. "W-what?"

Alfred blushed. "You don't have to stop being his friend. I'm sorry that I thought it was fair to ask you to do something like that. It was ridiculous and I feel guilty… just promise me nothing intimate will ever happen between you two, alright?"

Italy nodded rapidly, snapping out of a daze. "Si of course." Feli held him tightly and peppered his face with light kisses. "Oh I love you so much! Grazie! Grazie America!" He squealed.

The blond blushed heavily at the affection and playfully nudged him. "Go on then you little thing you." He smiled softly when Italy pressed one last kiss to his cheek and skipped back downstairs.

Alfred watched him go with a heavily feeling in his heart. He didn't realize what he had done when he had asked Italy out those many years ago. From Germany, he knew he'd taken Italy. But he didn't realize he had been taking much more, and almost regretted how nearly pushy he had been in his advances. Well, he hadn't been put off in his actions back then, but still.

Maybe he hadn't been the hero in that story at all…

 **(An):**

 **Yay it's finished!**

 **Thanks for everyone who stuck with this, I'm sorry for the messy ending. Everything turned to shit in this chapter and, well, I pretty much hate this ending but I wouldn't know what else to add.**

 **This one is honestly so old, I put a lot of time into it but I think it's a little too messy. I didn't want to waste the time I took on this, but I promise I won't post anything this old again. It took a lot of editing to make this even a little presentable, but I hope you liked it anyway.**

 **Thanks for the reads and reviews! Love you all!**


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